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'old  hon'ere  Miss  Hanna. 


ANNA    MAYLIE: 


BT  ELLA  FAEMAU. 


/^a-i-fr 


"  Behold,  the  husbandman  waiteth  for  the  precious  fruit  of  the 
earth,  and  hath  long  patience  for  it,  until  he  receive  the  early  and 
latter  rain."    James  5 : 7. 

"  And  let  us  not  he  weary  in  weU  doing:  for  in  due  season  we 
ehall  reap  if  we  faint  not."    Gai*  6 ,  a> 


Boston : 
Published  bv  S).  Xothrop  &  60. 


Entered,  according  to  Act  af  Congress,  in  the  year  1873, 

By  D.  LOTHROP  &  CO., 

In  the  Office  of  the  Librariaa  of  Congress,  at  Washington 


00 

o 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  I. 

PAGi:. 
Miss  Clbmmer's  Class      ....•••       7 

CHAPTER  n. 

Anna  Maylie's  Home •      .      20 

CHAPTER  ni. 
Anna's  Day  at  Miss  Clemmer's 84 

CHAPTER  IV. 
The  Prayeb  Meeting 61 

CHAPTER  V. 
Searching  FOB  A  Cross 72 

CHAPTER  YI. 
Rachel *      •      •        8i 

CHAPTER  Yll. 
The  Story  of  Joseph 97 

CHAPTER  Ytn. 
The  New  Twilight 106 

CHAPTER  rx. 
Peace 130 

CHAPTER  X. 
Out -OF -Doors 132 


iv.  Contents. 

CHAPTER  XI. 

PAGE. 
PjlEMONITIONS 154 

CHAPTER  Xn. 

Bex      ....  166 

CHAPTER  Xni. 

A  Sabbath  Evening 188 

CHAPTER  XTV. 

Among  THE  Weeds 217 

CHAPTER  XV. 
Another  Sabbath  Evening      .....         236 
CHAPTER  XVI. 

Changes      .       , 257 

CHAPTER  XVII. 

The  Harvest 270 

CHAPTER  XVJn. 
" He  GivETH  His  Beloved  Sleep"        .      •      ,       .292 

CHAPTER  XIX. 
A  Message  FROM  THE  Dead       ......  304 

CHAPTER  XX. 

In  THE  Memorial  Church 320 

CHAPTER  XXI. 
"Let  HER  OWN  Works  Praise  Her"      .      •      •      .810 


^**^o^^J 


PREFACE. 


In  presenting  to  my  readers  the  story  of  Anna  Maylie, 
of  her  life  both  as  girl  and  woman ,  at  the  East  and  in 
the  West,  I  have  endeavored  to  show,  first  of  all,  that 
whoever  loves  Jesus  with  a  full  and  vital  love  will  be 
busy  in  His  service.  I  have  labored  to  show  that  the 
blessing  of  Him  whose  thoughts  are  higher  than  our 
thoughts  rest  upon  eveiy  word,  every  wish,  every 
prayer,  every  deed,  which  is  bom  of  an  intense  desire 
to  further  His  work.  I  have  labored  to  show  that  God 
uses  these  words,  and  wishes,  and  prayers,  and  deeds, 
—  even  the  simplest  and  most  minute  of  them, —  as  in- 
struments by  which  to  work  out  His  larger,  wider  and 
more  glorious  scheme  for  the  spread  of  His  gospel,  and 
the  elevation,  usefulness  and  happiness  of  his  crea- 
tures. 

I  have  endeavored  to  show  those  who  stand  in  the 
high  places  of  the  world  that  God  may  choose  His  hum- 
blest child  for  the  choicest  mission ;  and  at  the  same 
time  I  have  endeavored  to  dispossess  the  minds  of  the 


"vi*  Preface, 

poor  of  the  idea  that  true  religion,  true  devotion,  and 
an  active  Christian  sympathy  are  not  to  be  found  among 
the  wealthy,  and  so  teach  them  that  the  Son  of  God 
makes  us  truly  all  "  one  in  Christ." 

And  I  shall  not  have  written  the  story  of  my  simple 
cottage  girl  in  vain  if  I  succeed  in  teaching  even  one 
the  lesson  of  Faith,  and  that  the  hand  of  both  God  and 
man  will  be  reached  oat  to  the  worthy  and  persever- 
ing. 

If  one,  even  one,  earnest  soul  finds  a  light  falling 
from  my  pages  to  light  the  path  of  daily  duty,  feels  that 
I  have  encouraged  it  to  be  patient,  to  wait,  and  to  go 
steadily  and  hopefully  on  with  the  w(/rk  while  waiting, 
I  shall  feel  that  I  have  not  held  my  humble  torch  aloft 
in  vain 


ANNA  MAYLIE 

A  STORY  OF  WORK. 


CHAPTER  I. 


EAR  ME  !  Why  will  Miss  Clemmer 
persist  in  keeping  Anna  Maylie  in  our 
class  ?  Every  year  it  is  just  the  same 
old  story." 

"  I  know  it.  But  I  should  think  Anna  herself 
would  have  pride  enough,  if  nothing  else,  to  go 
into  some  other  class.  Mercy  !  Do  you  suppose 
if  I  had  nothing  but  calico,  or  a  shilling  delaine, 
I'd  go  among  silks  and  grenadines  V  " 

"  That 's  just  it,  Fan  I  Miss  Clemmer  is  a  lady, 


8  Anna  Maylie, 

of  course ,  but  some  of  her  tastes  are  perfectly 
unaccountable.  Now,  of  course,  she  knows  this 
must  be  very  disagreeable  to  us." 

There  was  a  pause,  and  then  I  heard  Fan's 
voice  again.  "Father  is  superintendent,  and  if 
it  was  anybody  but  Miss  Clemmer,  I  would  have 
it  arranged  so  that  we  could  change  teachers ; 
but  it  would  not  be  Sabbath  -  school  without 
Miss  Clemmer." 

"  That  is  not  to  be  thought  of.  1  suppose  we 
must  put  up  with  it.  Only  think,  though,  of  our 
washer  -  woman's  daughter  in  our  class,  with  her 
drunken  fither,  and  her  print  dress,  and  cotton 
gloves,  and  such  shoes  !  " 

I  was  then  a  stranger  in  Morristown,  and  un- 
acquainted with  the  faces,  names,  and  social  posi- 
tions at  the  church  I  attended  ;  so  I  managed  as 
I  passed  them  to  take  a  sharp  look  at  the  two 
ladies  whose  conversation  I  had  overlieard.  Even 
while  I  walked  behind  them,  their  air  of  high 
breeding  and  fashion  had  been  unmistakable  ;  and 


Miss  Clemmer^s  Glass.  9 

as  I  passed  them,  I  saw  a  pair  of  those  delicate, 
clear  -  cut  faces  so  common  in  the  best  families  of 
our  cities  and  large  towns.  All  the  supercilious- 
ness of  a  fashionable  week-day  life  was  plairly 
written  upon  those  countenances,  and  by  their 
bearing  I  could  see  that  even  their  Sabbath  - 
school  was  part  and  parcel  o^  their  fashionable 
worldliness  ;  and  I  thought  how  faithful  and  de- 
TOted  the  teacher  of  such  girls  ought  to  be. 

An  interest  was  awakened  in  my  mind  concern- 
ing Miss  Clemmer's  class  ;  and  so  during  the  week, 
as  I  had  little  in  my  own  affairs  to  occupy  me, 
my  thoughts  often  recurred  to  the  teacher  who 
evidently  had  persisted  in  retaining  a  poor  and 
plainly  -  dressed  girl  in  her  class  of  fashionable 
young  ladies,  in  direct  opposition  to  their  wishes. 
I  felt  very  sure  she  was  aware  of  their  wishes,  for 
my  own  experience  had  taught  me  that  girls  of 
fifteen  and  seventeen  are  never  over  -  delicate  in 
making  their  dislikes  apparent. 

As  I  took  my  seat  in  the  Strangers'  Bible  class 


10  Anna  Maylie, 

the  following  Sabbath,  my  thoughts  recurred 
again  to  Miss  Clemmer  and  her  class ;  and  I 
thought  it  just  possible  that  I  should  be  able  to 
recognize  my  two  aristocratic  young  ladies  among 
the  bright  throng.  But  delicate  -  hued  silks  and 
dainty  bareges  were  quite  as  plenty  as  muslins  and 
prints,  and  the  high  -bred  type  of  face  is  com- 
mon, as  I  said  before.  I  might  have  asked  Mr. 
Barrett,  who  was  in  charge  of  our  class,  to  point 
out  Miss  Clemmer  ;  but  I  had  a  fancy  to  find  her 
for  myself. 

So  I  scanned  the  teachers  within  range,  and 
during  singing  I  searched  the  seats  beyond,  but 
found  no  one  whom  I  was  satisfied  to  call  Miss 
Clemmer.  I  concluded  that  I  had  magnified  a 
very  trivial  incident  into  something  of  impor- 
tance ;  so  I  turned  to  our  lesson,  and  became  in- 
terested, when  the  superintendent  came  up  and 
requested  Mr.  Barrett  to  send  some  one  to  take 
charge  of  a  class  whose  teacher  was  absent.  I 
was  asked  to   go,    and   the   superintendent  con- 


Miss  cummer's  Class,  11 

ducted  me  to  a  distant  part  of  the  room.  Busy 
with  my  scholars,  I  yet  had  ears  for  a  very  sweet 
voice  behind  me,  and  at  last,  managing  to  look 
back,  I  saw,  at  the  head  of  a  class  of  young 
ladies,  a  very  sweet  face  also.  I  was  interested 
in  my  little  charges,  but  I  became  still  more  in- 
terested in  the  lesson  -  giving  going  on  behind  mcj 
which  I  soon  found  to  be  a  sort  of  dialogue  be- 
tween the  sweet,  cultivated  voice  and  another 
voice  which  was  ready  and  self-reliant.  It  was 
only  occasionally  that  I  could  hear  a  well  -bred, 
characterless  answer  given  by  the  other  members 
of  the  class  to  some  direct  appeal  or  question. 

I  became  very  much  interested  in  the  unhesita- 
ting answers  which  that  one  scholar  had  for  every 
question ;  they  were  so  different  from  the  few, 
quiet,  non-committal  replies  of  her  companions  ; 
and  then,  all  at  once,  it  flashed  over  me  —  Miss 
Clemmer  and  her  class  !  All  my  old  interest  as- 
sumed its  former  importance.  I  placed  myself  in 
front  of  my  scholars,  and  found  an  opportunity  to 


12  Anna  Maylie* 

survey  my  neighbors ;  and  there,  among  the 
well -'dressed  occupants  of  the  seat,  I  easily 
recognized  my  two  haughty  acquaintances  of  the 
sidewalk,  and,  as  if  to  determine  the  matter,  next 
the  sweet  -  voiced  teacher  there  sat  a  girl  who 
strongly  contrasted  with  the  rest,  —  Anna  May- 
lie,  I  was  sure.  She  was  a  nice  -  looking  girl, 
with  a  remarkably  clear  complexion,  and  bright, 
dark  hair  and  eyes,  but  her  roses,  plumpness,  and 
frank,  open  expression  gave  her  a  rustic  appear- 
ance, and  spoke  of  some  simple  manner  of  life. 
I  looked  at  her  again  and  again,  for  she  had  such 
a  good  face,  —  almost  lovable.  But  I  was  not  so 
ignorant  of  life  and  of  human  nature  as  to  wonder 
why  her  class  -  mates  disliked  her.  I  am  a  wom- 
an, and,  though  perhaps  I  should  not  have 
done  so,  I  involuntarily  inventoried  her  attire  : 
A  cottage  bonnet  of  coarse  straw,  simply 
trimmed  with  an  inexpensive  blue  ribbon,  a  dress 
of  print, — pretty  and  delicate,  but  at  the  best 
nothing  but  print,  —  a  plain,  white  sacque,   and 


Miss  Clemmer^s  Class,  13 

plain,  linen  collar,  and  a  parasol  of  gingham. 
This  was  in  painful  contrast  with  the  blonde 
frills,  the  Valenciennes  collars,  and  the  handsome 
Neapolitan  bonnets  of  the  young  ladies  at  her 
side.  It  must  have  needed  the  very  best  quality 
of  courage  to  sit  with  a  sunny  face.  Sabbath  after 
Sabbath,  while  her  poor  print  skirts  were  crushed 
and  hidden  beneath  the  costly  and  beautiful  robes 
which  crowded  her  on  every  hand. 

"Yes,  this  must  be  Anna  May  lie,  and  I  won- 
der too  why  she  stays  in  such  a  class,"  I  said  to 
myself,  because  girls  of  her  own  station  were 
plenty  enough  around  me.  I  turned  to  Miss 
Clemmer,  with  her  sweet,  snow  -  drop  face.  Her 
bonnet  was  French, — white  bonnets  were  in 
Btyle  then,  if  you  think  back  thirteen  years, —  and 
with  its  broad,  white  ties,  and  its  white  wreath  of 
lily  bells,  it  was  very  becoming.  Indeed,  her 
whole  attire  was  that  of  a  wealthy  young  lady  of 
exquisite  taste,  who  shunned  display ;  still,  her 
one  poor  scholar  could  not  have  crept  to  her  side 


14  Anna  Maylie. 

to  avoid  the  contrast  with  the  class.  I  know 
that  I  care  little  for  mere  externals,  but  I  remem- 
ber that  unconsciously  I  looked  first  at  poor 
Anna's  brown,  sun -burned  wrist,  which  was  re- 
vealed by  her  short  cotton  glove,  then  at  the 
blue  -  veined  patrician  hand  of  her  teacher,  shaded 
by  a  fall  of  costly  lace,  and  then  wondered  again, 
—  though  I  trust  I  am  a  Christian,  —  why  the 
girl  was  there. 

But  as  I  quietly  continued  my  observations,  I 
noticed  what  an  undisturbed  air  there  was  about 
Anna  Maylie,  and  the  appearance  she  had  of 
nestling  down  by  Miss  Clemmer's  side ;  and  I 
grew  to  feel  that  in  some  way  her  Sabbath - 
school  teacher  was  very  dear  to  her.  I  noticed 
also  how,  after  every  unsatisfactory  answer  from 
the  rest  of  the  class.  Miss  Clemmer  would  always 
turn  back  with,  "I  am  sure  you  must  have 
thought  about  this,  Anna,"  and  how  attentively 
she  listened  to  what  Anna  said,  and  how  satis- 
fied she   looked   at   Anna's   modest  promptness, 


Miss  Glemmer^s  Glass,  15 

until  I  felt  sure  she  was  her  favorite  scholar,  and 
that  it  was  a  personal  affection  which  bound  the 
lady  to  the  little  rustic. 

I  was  sitting  among  my  little  strangers  when 
Miss  Clemmer  closed  her  Bible,  and  I  had  an 
undisturbed  opportunity  to  hear  what  followed. 
It  was  in  a  voice  lower  and  more  quiet  than  she 
had  used  in  teaching,  that  she  began : 

"  My  girls,  I  have  something  to  consult  with 
you  about.  The  superintendent,  your  father, 
Fanny,  has  requested  all  his  teachers  to  do  some 
especial  work  for  the  good  of  his  scholars.  I 
have  long  felt  the  need  of  especial  and  unusual 
work,  — how  long  is  it,  Satie,  that  I  have  taught 
you?" 

"I  think  it  is  four  years.  Miss  Clemmer," 
Satie,  one  of  the  young  ladies  of  the  previous 
Sunday's  conversation,  answered. 

"Yes,  it  is  four  years.  Fanny,  do  you  think 
my  four  years'  work  has  done  any  good  ?  " 

"  O  Miss  Clemmer,  I  hope  so." 


16  Anna  May  lie, 

"My  dear  girls,  I  have  tried  to  be  faithful, 
but  are  you,  any  one  of  you,  nearer  the  kingdom 
of  Heaven?" 

There  was  silence  in  the  class,  a  long  silence. 
She  went  on ; 

"I  have  worked  every  Sunday  for  four  years, 
yet  not  one  of  my  girls  can  tell  me  that  she  is 
any  nearer  the  kingdom  of  Heaven  !  Does  one 
of  you  love  Jesus  any  better  because  I  have 
taught  you  of  Him  for  four  years?  Do  you, 
Clara?  Fanny?  Satie?  Eachel?  Anna?" 

I  could  hear  the  restrained  sob  in  Miss  Clem- 
mer's  voice  as  she  leaned  forward  to  her  silent 
class.  I  could  almost  hear,  too,  that  painful, 
restrained  silence,  — that  silence  which  so  many 
a  teacher  has  helplessly  encountered  when  she 
has  endeavored  to  break  down  the  barrier  between 
herself  and  her  class.  How  mournful  her  voice 
was  when  she  spoke  again  ! 

"I  have  been  in  my  Master's  field  four  years, 
and  I  have  not  a  sheaf  to  carry  to  Him  !     Your 


Miss  Clemmer^s  Class,  17 

father  was  right,  Fanny,  when  he  said  he  must 
appoint  especial  work  to  us.  He  has  given  ua 
the  choice  as  to  what  each  would  do.  But  I  — 
I  can  not  do  the  work  which  I  have  chosen, 
alone.  I  have  worked  too  much  alone,  I  fear, 
these  four  years." 

She  paused,  and   then   resumed  : 

"  Will  you  come  to  my  prayer  -  meeting,  girls  ? 
I  have  had  an  evening  of  prayer  for  my  class  for 
many  months,  but  I  think  I  have  erred  in  not 
having  my  class  with  me.  Now  you  would 
hardly  refuse  me  anything  else,  —  you  have 
always  regarded  all  my  wishes,  — and  this  wish 
is  more  to  me  than  anything  else  ever  was.  Fri- 
day evening,  I  would  like  to  see  you  all  in  my 
room.  Rachel,  you  will  not  let  me  hold  my 
prayer  -  meeting  alone  ?  "  she  added  in  a  gentle 
tone  to  the  tall,  dark  girl  who  sat  next  Anna 
May  lie.  She  said  it  as  the  rest  of  the  class  were 
looking  out  the  hymn  which  the  superintendent 
was  reading,  and  she   took  RacIieFs  hand  within 


18  Anna  May  lie, 

her  own.  The  gh'l's  face  paled,  but  she  turaed 
awaj  and  made  no  answer.  I  could  see,  as  I 
quietly  glanced  that  way  while  the  school  was 
sino'ing^,  that  Miss  Clemmer  was  endeavorinoj  to 
control  her  evident  emotion,  and  also  that  none 
of  her  class  were  singing. 

At  the  close  of  school  I  heard  her  address  Anna 
Maylie  :  "  I  shall  be  around  to  see  you  in  the 
morning  ;  if  you  can,  try  and  be  at  home  ;"  and 
then  she  stepped  aside  to  let  the  girls  pass  out. 
Fanny  Howland,  the  superintendent's  daughter, 
came  last,  and  her  Miss  Clemmer  detained,  and 
said,  earnestly  :  "  Fanny,  I  have  asked  none  of 
you  to  promise  me,  but  if  you  could  know  how  I 
want  you  to  come ;  you  lead  them,  and  if  you 
would  come" 

The  young  lady  was  embarrassed ;  but  she 
finally  stammered  ;  "  I  am  sorry,  Miss  Clemmer, 
but  I  had  an  eno^agement." 

"  Yes,  Fanny,  I  know,  and  I  hesitated  some 
about  saying  Friday  evening.     I   knew   of  couree 


Miss  Clemmer's  Class.  19 

you  had  invitations  to  Miss  Graham's ;  I  had 
heard  Gertie  speak  of  it ;  bat  the  Bible  so- 
ciety, and  Dr.  Mason's  lecture,  and  the  teachers' 
meeting,  and  our  Aid  society,  seem  to  take  every 
other  evening.  Yet  I  feel  as  if  I  must  have  you, 
Fanny.  Think  of  it  half  an  hour  each  day,  for 
my  sake,  won't  you  ?  " 

Fanny  could  not  help  returning  the  clasp  of 
her  teacher's  hand,  but  her  face  was  flushed,  and 
she  went  down  the  aisle  without  giving  her  any 
promise. 

From  the  door  I  glanced  back,  and  saw  Miss 
Clemmer  still  standing  by  her  empty  class  -  seat, 
many  moments  after  the  room  was  deserted  ;  and 
with  her,  I  felt  that  she  had  entered  upon  a  diffi- 
cult work. 


CHAPTER  n. 


ANNA  MAYLIE'S  HOME. 

NNA  Maylie's  home  was  on  Mor- 
ristown  Common  ;  and  to  her  it  never 
^jp  looked  so  unattractive  as  on  those  days 
when  she  was  expecting  her  Sunday, 
school  teacher.  From  motives  of  delicacy,  Miss 
Clemmer  always  made  her  aware  when  she  in- 
tended to  come  round  and  see  her,  wishino^  to 
speire  her  all  unnecessary  mortification,  and  feel- 
ing intuitively  that  there  might  be  many  little 
things  which  the  poor  girl  would  wish  to  do  to  be 
in  a  manner  prepared  for  her  coming.     In  spite, 


Anna  Maylie's  Home*  21 

however,  of  this  delicate  care,  these  little  calls, 
which  Anna  would  not  have  missed  for  worlds, 
which  she  was  proud  to  know  she  received  aa 
often  as  Eachel  Mansfield  or  Fanny  Howland, 
were  the  severest  mortifications  of  her  life. 

This  Monday  morning  was  one  of  June's  love- 
liest. Bird,  and  bee,  and  sunshine,  and  breeze, 
and  flower,  were  all  at  their  gayest.  Nothing 
inanimate,  save  actual  dirt  and  disorder,  could  be 
wholly  disagreeable,  upon  such  a  morning ;  and 
at  dirt  and  disorder  poor  Anna  tugged.  She  was 
glad  it  was  summer ;  poverty  is  not  so  staring 
then  ;  in  winter  their  dwelling  was  so  wretched  - 
looking  and  comfortless ;  but  now  the  maples  and 
rose  -  bushes  were  doing  their  best  to  hide  the  age 
and  ruin  of  the  old  brown  house.  Giant  rose- 
bushes of  a  long  ago  planting  kindly  covered  the 
starting  boards,  and  the  graceful  maples  towered 
higher  than  the  tumbling  chimney.  This  morn- 
ing, too,  the  window  curtains  of  white  cotton 
*were  not  so  soiled  as  usual ;   she  noticed  with  a 


22  Anna  May  lie. 

sigh  of  relief  that  they  blew  in  and  out,  quite 
fi*esh  and  white  among  the  dark,  green  leaves. 
Purring  away  in  the  deepest  gratitude  for  the  sun- 
shine sat  her  pretty  cat  upon  the  window  -  sill, 
rubbing  her  head  gently  against  the  casement, 
and  wooing  Anna's  soft  caress.  As  she  paused  a 
moment  to  stroke  her,  Anna  thought,  —  "  she  has 
added  her  lovin^^  little  mite  towards  makin":  thinors 
seem  better :  "  and  then  she  turned  to  her  task 
again.  She  had  washed  the  little  looking-glass, 
and  the  table,  and  chairs,  until  they  shone. 
Both  her  pots  of  geranium  were  in  full  bloom, 
and  she  felt  that,  if  nothing  else  about  the  room 
bore  marks  of  refinement,  the  table  surely  did, 
as  she  massed  the  green  and  scarlet  luxuriance 
beneath  the  looking  -  glass,  with  her  Bible  and 
Sunday  -  school  books  piled  before  upon  her  great 
Commentary. 

But  the  tears  came  up  again  as  she  went  on 
rinsing  up  the  floor.  In  spite  of  her  little  attempts 
at  refinement,    a  great   unwholesomeness    rested 


Anna  Maylle^s  Home.  23 

upon  everything ;  and  more  than  onco  she  turned 
with  a  sick  face  toward  the  rough  wooden  lounge, 
where  hiy  a  man  who  was  then  the  exact  embodi- 
ment of  your  idea  of  a  drunkard.  His  heavy 
snoring  overpowered  the  songs  of  the  birds  ;  the 
indescribable  vileness  of  his  breath  stifled  the  per- 
fume of  the  geraniums  and  roses.  There,  the 
secret  of  all  Anna's  poverty,  disgrace,  and  mor- 
tifications, lay  Anna's  father,  deep  in  the  heavy 
Monday  sleep  which  follows  the  drunkard's 
Sabbath. 

This  morning,  Anna  had  cast  many  an  appeal- 
ing look  toward  her  mother,  who  was  hurrying 
away  to  be  in  time  for  her  Monday's  washing  at 
Esquire  Howlands ;  and  more  than  ono  heavy 
sigh  did  the  miserable  woman  heave  when  she 
was  out  of  Anna's  sight.  But  she  felt  she  could 
do  nothing.  The  time  came  for  her  to  go,  and 
then  Anna  dropped  the  mop  and  followed  her  to 
the  gate.  "O  Mother,"  said  she,  "can't  you 
coax  Father  out  of  doors  somewhere  ?     How  can 


24  Anna  Maylie. 

I  have  Miss  Clemmer  see  him  so  ?  I  shall  sink 
through  the  floor.  Do  come  back  and  do  some- 
thing, Mother."* 

"  I  can't,  Anna.  You  know  as  well  as  I  do 
where  he  '11  go  if  he  is  roused  up  and  got  out  of 
the  house.  I  ain't  a-goin'  to  send  him  to  the 
tavern.  You  '11  have  to  make  the  best  of  it,  for 
all  I  see.  I  wish  that  Miss  Clemmer  would  stay 
at  home,  and  everybody  else  that  is  fine  like  she 
is." 

The  poor  girl  gave  a  dry  sob  as  her  mother 
hurried  away.  "  There's  no  use  in  living ;  and  I 
wish  I  was  dead."  She  went  slowly  back  to  hei 
work.  Her  plump  face  was  not  easily  moved; 
but  now  it  was  distorted  by  emotion,  and  was 
oh,  so  bitter  in  its  expression  !  "I  don't  care  if 
I  did  wish  so ;  I  do  wish  Miss  Clemmer  woulc 
stay  at  home.  She  is  too  fair  and  sweet  to  come 
to  such  a  place  as  this.  I  wish  I  had  never  seen 
her.  I  wish  there  was  no  church,  no  Bible,  no 
heaven,    no   me  I     I  hate  living  I     I  hate  day- 


Anna  Maylie^s  Home,  25 

light !  I  hate  all  the  comfort  folks  have !  I 
wish  there  was  nothing  anywhere  in  the  world 
but  savages  and  misery ;  then  nobody  would  care 
for  anything ! " 

There  was  an  expression  of  horror,  of  such 
utter  heathenism  on  her  face  for  a  moment,  that 
it  was  a  relief  when  it  gave  place  to  a  look  of 
common,  every  -  day  crossness  as  she  caught  the 
sound  of  children's  voices,  and  their  bare  feet 
fresh  from  a  mud  -  puddle  ;  —  little  Jim  chasing 
Jacky  with  shrieks  of  laughter  straight  across  the 
half -dried  floor,  and  out  of  the  front  door,  and 
through  the  gate,  and  away,  with  a  whoop  and  a 
yell,  straight  against  dainty  Miss  Clemmer  who 
was  just  coming  round  the  corner,  knocking  her 
parasol  and  her  flowers  into  the  ditch.  Poor 
Anna  saw  it  all,  and  in  her  utter  despair  stood 
perfectly  still.  She  noted  with  a  dreadful  sense 
of  misery  the  look  of  indignation  which  swept 
across  Miss  Clemmer's  face,  and  the  gesture  of 
disgust  with  which  she  stooped  to  fish  her  para- 


26  Anna  Maylze* 

eol  out  of  the  filth, — and  then —  then  she  dropped 
her  mop  and  ran  out  of  the  back  door  down 
amono;  the  old  currant  bushes.  Such  utter  con- 
fusion  !  Such  bitter  shame  !  "  She  knows  it's 
Jacky  and  Jim ;  she  will  come  to  the  door  and 
see  father ;  my  mop  -  pail  stands  right  in  the 
doorway  ;  I  won't  go  in  ! " 

She  crouched  lower  among  the  bushes.  She 
heard  the  gate  swing  to,  and  then  the  decisive, 
peremptory,  little  knock  upon  the  door  -  casing. 
Again,  again.  After  a  pause  she  heard  her  name 
called  by  Miss  Oemmer's  sweet  voice,  — that 
sweet  voice  which  she  could  never  resist ;  it  was 
the  voice  which  had  called  her  to  all  the  good  she 
had  ever  known. 

"  Anna  !     Where  is  Anna  ?  " 

She  instinctively  rose  to  her  feet,  and  the  back 
door  being  open,  she  found  herself  directly  op- 
posite Miss  Clemmer,  who  saw  her  down  the 
garden  and  smiled.  Mechanically  Anna  came 
forward.      Her   father's   heavy    snoring  sounded 


Anna  Maylie's  IIom,e,  27 

tliroiigh  the  summer  stillness  of  the  room,  but 
Miss  Clemmer  ignored  it  all.  "  Why,  Anna, 
how  industrious  you  are,  to  have  your  scrubbing 
out  of  the  way  so  early  ?  I  dare  say  our  Norah 
has  n't  thought  of  it  yet.  But  I  am  in  quite  a 
hurry  this  morning,  Anna  ;  I  will  stay  out  here 
among  your  roses  while  you  brush  your  hair ;  I 
shall  stay  too  long  if  I  come  in  and  sit  down  ;  " — 
so  she  turned  her  back  upon  Anna's  troubles. 
While  she  was  brushing  her  braids,  and  pinning 
on  a  collar,  Anna  thought  with  a  fresh  horror  of 
Miss  Clemmer  in  her  dainty,  white  morning 
dress,  endeavoring  to  make  her  way  though  the 
tall  grass  in  which  the  wilderness  of  untrimmed 
bushes  grew.  She  saw,  however,  that  Miss 
Clemmer  had  confined  her  ramble  to  the  rose  - 
tree  which  grew  near  the  gate  ;  and  when  Anna 
came  to  the  door  she  bade  her  put  on  her  bonnet 
for  a  walk ;  and  how  grateful  the  girl  was  to  be 
taken  away  from  the  shame  of  home. 

Miss  (Clemmer  drew  the  brown   arm  with  ita 


28  Anna  Maylie. 

calico  sleeve  within  her  own.  As  they  left  the 
Common,  and  Cottage  Grove,  and  walked  on, 
Anna's  spirits  rose  once  more.  "She  knows  it 
all ;  she  has  seen  it  all ;  seen  the  worst ;  and  yet 
she  likes  me.  And,  anyway,  none  of  it  was 
me  !  "  she  added  to  herself,  as  she  caught  the 
contagious  gladness  of  Nature.  Miss  Clemmer's 
eyes  had  rested  all  the  way  upon  the  changing 
face,  and  now  she  said, — 

"Anna,  I  would  like  to  know  how  old  you 
are ;  fifteen,  is  it  not?  I  thought  so.  You  have 
always  been  at  home,  I  think?  Are  you  accus- 
tomed to  doing  many  varieties  of  work  ?  " 

Anna  looked  puzzled.  "Why,  yes,  of  course. 
No  —  that  is.  Miss  Clemmer,  you  would  n't  think 
I  was  —  yet  I  am  a  great  help  to  mother." 

"Yes,  Anna,  I  know  you  are ;  and  I  think  my 
question  was  very  abrupt  indeed.  I  know  you 
must  do  a  great  deal ;  your  mother  is  gone  sev- 
eral days  every  week.  You  must  do  cooking, 
and  something  of  all  varieties  of  housework.     It 


A7ina  Maylie^s  Home,  29 

was  something  quite  different  that  I  meant,   how- 

I 

ever.  It  was  whether  you  understand  any  kind 
of  work  which  would  bring  money  into  your 
hands  ; —  you  are  growing  to  need  many  things 
wliich  your  parents  are  scarcely  able  to  procure 
for  you." 

Anna's  face  crimsoned  painfully.  She  said 
nothing.  Miss  Clemmer,  after  a  pause,  went  on  : 
"  Would  you  like  to  earn  something  ?  or  do  you 
already?  I  am  not  inquisitive,  Anna,  but  you 
are  now  old  enough  to  feel  personal  responsibil- 
ity, and  to  have  plans  of  your  own.  I  think  you 
need  a  friend.  Will  you  not  tell  me  how  it  is  at 
home,  and  how  you  look  at  life,  my  dear?  I 
have  long  wished  that  I  could  assist  you, —  assist 
you  to  become  not  only  independent,  but  to  be  a 
greater  help  to  your  mother." 

"Poor  mother!"  exclaimed  Anna,  in  a  half 
choked  voice.  "  Poor  mother  at  the  washtub, 
buys  so  much  with  her  earnings, —  so  much, — 
you  can  have  no  idea,  Miss  Clemmer  !     And  the 


30  Anna  Maylie, 

best  is  for  me,  —  nothing  for  herself.  All  of 
Jim's  and  Jacky's  clothes,  and  father's,  too,"  she 
added  with  a  blush.  "  I  have  never  earned  any- 
thing. No  one  at  our  house  earns  anything 
but  mother, —  not  anything, —  not  flour, —  not 
wood, —  not  any  one  thing, —  mother  does  it  all. 
And  if  I  only  could  !  I  do  n't  need  anything  for 
myself;  but  it  would  help  mother  so,  and  per- 
haps she  could  be  at  home  more." 

"  Then  would  you  be  willing  to  come  to  our 
house  and  assist  me  two  days  of  every  week  ?  " 

"Help  you,  Miss  Clemmer?  Come  to  your 
house?  But  I  could  n't,  if  you  only  think.  I 
have  never  done  any  work  in  a  right  or  nice  way. 
You  need  a  lady  to  do  even  your  work." 

"  Hush,  Anna  !  The  work  I  wished  help  about 
is  not  the  housework,  and  I  expected  to  teach  you 
to  do  it  myself.  I  think  it  is  very  agreeable 
work,  and  I  could  easily  do  it,  but  I  think  it  bet- 
ter to  give  employment  to  those  who  need  assist* 
ance ;   for  I  have  found  that  those  who  are  truly 


Anna  Maylie's  Home,  31 

deserving  of  it,  usually  prefer  to  receive  money  as 
payment  for  services  rendered,  than  as  a  gift.  It 
is  for  this  reason  that  I  so  frequently  hire  work 
performed  which  1  might  do  myself." 

But  Anna  had  a  doubt  as  to  whether  she  could 
learn  to  do  work  which  Miss  Clemmer  herself 
would  like.     She  said, — 

"  You  may  have  patience  with  me,  but  I  know 
the  servants  never  would.  I  know  that  I  often 
try  mother  dreadfully." 

Miss  Clemmer  smiled. 

"  I  will  tell  you  about  this  work,  Anna.  Ger- 
tie and  I  have  always  spent  a  portion  of  our  al- 
lowance in  assisting  a  young  woman  who  has  a 
great  attachment  for  us.  We  employed  her  to  do 
our  fine  ironing, —  our  ruffles,  handkerchiefs,  and 
collars,  and  to  get  up  our  laces, —  articles  too  fine 
to  go  with  the  family  ironings.  The  same  wom- 
an has  always  done  our  white  mending,  but  her 
sister  is  ill,  and  she  has  gone  back  to  France, 
and   probably   will   not    return.      I   have   long 


32  Anna  Mat/lie, 

thouglit  of  taking  you  partially  in  my  care,  Anna ; 
and  lately  I  have  concluded  that  if  you  would 
like  it,  I  would  teach  you  to  do  this  woman's  work, 
I  can  teach  you  to  get  up  laces,  and  to  clear 
starch,  and  to  mend  and  do  darning  like  a  lady. 
There  are  a  large  number  of  families  who  would 
give  employment  and  good  wages  to  persons  who 
could  do  this  class  of  work  satisfactorily.  It 
ought  to  be  a  fortune  to  you.  And  it  is  not  hard 
work, —  it  is  only  particular." 

"  I  would  like  a  steady  way  of  earning  money," 
said  Anna,  thoughtfully.  "  So  much  Monday, 
and  so  much  Tuesday,  and  Wednesday,  and 
every  day  the  week  through.  I  would  like  it  to 
be  me  v/ho  earned  the  money,  instead  of  poor 
mother.  Would  you  please,  Miss  Clemmer,  to 
go  and  see  mother  and  talk  to  her  about  it  as  you 
have  to  me?  She  will  know  better  than  I  do 
whether  I  am  capable  of  doing  this." 

"  Yes,  I  will,  ray  dear  Anna.  I  will  go  round 
and  see  her  this  morning.     Shall  I  also  settle  the 


Anna  Maylie^s  Home,  33 

question  of  wages  with  her?  and  what  days  you 
will  be  able  to  come  to  me?  Well,  then,  I  will 
send  you  back  home  now,  for  I  have  kept  you  a 
long  time,  and  your  mother  away  too.  I  hope 
she  will  allow  you  to  spend  the  coming  Friday 
with  me.  But  I  may  feel  certain,  may  I  not, 
Anna,  that  you  will  not  forget  what  I  said  to  you 
all  last  Sabbath?  I  should  be  very  sad  if  you 
should  forget  to  come  to  your  teacher's  prayer- 
meeting,  Anna."  And  without  waiting  for  a  re- 
ply, she  left  h^r. 


CHAPTER  m. 


ais^a's  day  at  ivnss  cle^oier's. 

S  ISS  CLEMMER'S  benevolences 
were  carefully  arranged  ;  this  endeav- 
ro)^  or  to  assist  Anna  Maylie  was  only 
one  of  them.  But  in  the  Maylie 
household,  Anna's  going  out  from  home  was  a 
vivid  event.  In  poor  ]Mrs.  Maylie's  heart  there 
was  a  settled  faith  that  this  was  a  commencement 
which  would  affect  the  entire  future  life  of  her 
daughter.  Jacky  and  Jim  looked  upon  it  as  a 
sort  of  excursion  into   fairy  -  land,  and  they  spec- 


Annans  Day  at  Miss  Clemmer's,         35 

ulated  upon  what  sister  might  bring  home ;  for 
their  mother,  on  those  memorable  days  when  the 
regular  help  had  failed  in  the  Clemmer  kitchen 
and  she  had  been  summoned,  had  always  returned 
liiden  with  baskets  of  fruit,  or  fragments  of  dainty 
cookery  whose  composition  was  something  en- 
tirely unknown  to  her  children. 

"Well,  what  of  it?  It's  high  time  she  was 
earning  her  own  living  !  "  Mr.  Mayliesaid  when, 
during  one  of  his  half  sober  intervals,  he  was 
made  aware  of  the  arrangement.  "  But  mind, 
now,  what  I  tell  you,  Anna  !  Don't  you  be  put 
upon !  May  lie  blood 's  as  good  as  Clemmer 
blood  any  day ;  and  no  Maylie  yet  ever  eat  at  the 
second  table.  You  just  come  home  if  you  ain't 
treated  well ;  mind  that,  Anna  !  " 

Anna's  lip  half  curled  at  her  father's  maudlin 
independence.  She  could  not  very  well  help 
remembering  how  often  their  breakfast  table  had 
been  supplied  entirely  from  the  baskets  of  broken 
viands   which   her    poor,     patient    mother    had 


36  Anna  Maylie, 

brought  home  from  the  great  houses  where  she 
washed ;  but,  wreck  as  her  father  was,  she  had 
never  yet  spoken  a  disrespectful  word  to  him,  and 
constantly  strove  to  avoid  thinking  a  disrespect- 
ful thought. 

To  Anna  herself  it  was  the  event  of  her  life. 
Her  affection  for  her  teacher  was  a  perfect  passion 
with  her, —  a  passionate  blending  of  admiration 
and  gratitude.  She  was  never  weary  of  looking 
at  her;  never  weary  of  admiring  her  loveliness 
and  refinement ;  never  weary  of  remembering  that 
summer  night,  years  ago,  when  the  graceful  lady 
came  out  of  the  arbor  by  the  garden  path,  as  she 
was  going  home  with  her  mother  after  the  wash- 
ing was  over,  and  talked  with  them,  and  called 
her  a  nice  -  looking  little  girl,  and  made  her 
mother  promise  to  have  her  ready  to  go  to  Sun- 
day -  school  the  next  Sabbath ;  and  from  that  day 
on  her  place  had  been  next  to  her  teacher's  side. 
All  the  beauty  that  she  had  ever  known,  all  the 
good,   all  the  hope  for  something    better   and 


AnnoCs  Day  at  Miss  Chmmer's,         37 

brighter,  had  come  to  her  through  her  Sunday- 
school  and  her  teacher.  And  until  lately  she  had 
never  appreciated  how  her  mother  had  worked, 
and  washed,  and  sat  up  nights,  that  her  child's 
clothes  should  be  neat  and  whole  on  the  Sabbath ; 
—  she  could  hardly  understand,  even  now,  how 
the  thought  that  her  daughter  was  growing  up 
respectable  was  a  sufficient  reward. 

Miss  Clemmer  had  given  much  week  -  day  at- 
tention to  the  little  waif  she  had  taken  by  the 
hand.  Indeed,  in  her  practice  of  Christianity, 
she  never  forgot  the  close  reasoning  of  the  Apos- 
tle James  : 

"  If  a  brother  or  sister  be  naked,  and  destitute 
of  daily  food,  and  one  of  you  say  unto  them, 
Depart  in  peace,  be  ye  warmed  and  filled ;  not- 
withstanding ye  give  them  not  those  things  which 
are  needful  to  the  body  ;  what  doth  it  profit  ?  " 

She  had  found  Anna  singularly  alive  to  in- 
struction, and  singularly  able  to  use  everything 
she  learned  in  learning  more.     She  added  a  Bible 


38  Anna  Maylie* 

Dictionary  to  her  previous  gift  of  a  Bible,  and 
followed  the  Dictionary  with  a  couple  of  volumes 
of  Biblical  antiquities.  Finding  her  able  to  ap- 
preciate any  research  which  threw  light  upon 
Bible  life,  she  lent  her  books  of  Eastern  travel, 
and  gave  her  the  use  of  a  set  of  Commentaries, 
thouorh  she  marveled  the  while  at  her  eaojer  little 
pupil.  Of  course  this  girl  of  thirteen,  fourteen, 
and  fifteen,  could  not  master  or  appreciate  the 
finer  portions  of  these  works, — I  dare  say  she 
did  not  even  read  the  profound  arguments,  the 
speculations,  and  the  doctrinal  parts.  But  all 
facts  she  appropriated ;  and  she  remembered  all 
points  of  geography,  and  all  descriptions  of  man- 
ners and  customs.  She  thought  it  merely  duty 
to  answer  all  questions  asked  by  her  teacher  or 
the  superintendent,  and  she  never  left  that  task  to 
the  usual  chorus  of  younger  children.  In  com- 
mon with  the  young  ladies  of  other  Sunday- 
schools,  those  of  the  Morristown  First  church 
thought  it  hardly  becoming  or   dignified  to  an- 


AnncHs  Day  at  Miss  Clemmer's,         39 

swer  the  Superintendent's  questions  in  common 
with  the  children ;  but  Anna  Maylie  was  too 
downright  to  be  held  back  by  any   such   scruples. 

E^Gry  year  Miss  Clemmer's  interest  in  this 
girl  from  Morristown  Common  had  deepened, 
until  now  nothinof  would  have  induced  her  to  let 
go  her  clasp  of  that  strong,  loving,  little  brown 
hand.  Of  late  her  interest  in  her  as  a  Sunday- 
school  scholar  had  widened  into  the  thought  that 
she  was  a  girl  for  whose  future  as  a  woman  she 
might  be  held  responsible.  As  this  feeling  of 
responsibility  grew  upon  her,  she  used,  at  first, 
to  shrink ;  for  it  laid  so  many  duties  and  so  much 
care  upon  her ;  and  it  was  only  after  half  a  year's 
pondering,  and  maturing  of  her  plans,  and  after 
many  prayers  for  patience  and  wisdom,  that  she 
made  that  Monday  morning  call  I  told  you  of. 

I  can  not  describe  to  you  the  feelings  in  Anna 
Maylie's  heart  as  she  hastened  away  on  that  Fri- 
day morning,  thinking  not  so  much  of  what  she 
was  to  do,   or  how  much  she  was  to  earn,  as  of 


40  Anna  Maylie. 

the  fact  that  she  was  to  work  directly  under  Miss 
Clemmer's  own  eye.  To  her  also  it  was  ^^ery 
much  like  an  excursion  into  fairyland ;  but  her 
pleasure  was  toned  down  by  the  fear  that  she 
misfht  not  succeed  in  doinsr  Miss  Clemmer's  work 
nicely ;  and  she  lost  more  and  more  confidence 
in  herself  as  she  came  nearer  and  nearer,  until 
she  felt  strangely  timid  as  she  unlatched  the  mas- 
sive garden  gate  which  opened  upon  the  nearest 
approach  to  the  house.  She  walked  slowly  up 
the  broad,  graveled  path,  noticing  the  immense 
expanse  of  strawberry  beds,  the  innumerable  grape 
trellises,  the  sparkling  array  of  glass,  and  the 
long  stretches  of  vegetables  whose  very  leaf 
sometimes  was  quite  unknown  to  her.  Measur- 
ing the  land  with  her  eye,  she  wondered  why, 
since  one  gardener  could  do  all  this,  it  had 
not  been  so  ordered  that  her  father  should  be  a 
sober,  working  man,  and  then  they  might  at  least 
have  had  a  good  garden.  "  What  a  difference  it 
would  have  made  with  our   living,"   she  thought. 


Anna's  Day  at  Miss  Clemmer's,         41 

"  'Twould  have  helped  mother  so."  And  her  lip 
already  began  to  quiver. 

A  few  steps  on  brought  her  into  Miss  Clem- 
mer's  rosery.  And  Anna  loved  flowers  so  that 
she  could  not  help  pausing  and  wondering  at  the 
strange,  emerald  freshness  of  nearly  all  the  bush- 
es ;  they  were  almost  as  freshly  green  as  the  close  - 
shorn  velvet  turf  at  their  feet.  "Why!"  said 
she  after  a  moment's  survey,  "  there  is  not  a  bare 
twig,  nor  g,  dead  leaf,  nor  a  withered  rose ! 
What  makes  them  so  different  from  mine?  Qh, 
I  see.  The  old  flowers,  and  rusty  leaves,  and 
empty  stems,  go  into  a  big  basket.  I  '11  remem- 
ber that." 

But  suddenly  she  started  on  with  a  curious 
consciousness  that  she  was  using,  not  her  own 
time,  but  Miss  Clemmer's  ;  for  her  mother  had 
impressed  it  upon  her  that  she  must  expect  to  work 
from  7,  A.  M.,  until  6,  p.  M.  Following  her 
mother's  instructions,  she  proceeded  at  once  to  a 
certain  side  door,   and  inquired  of  the  girl  who 


42  Anna  Maylie, 

answered  her  ring,  for  the  housekeeper.  To  that 
bustling  personage  she  gave  her  name,  and  said 
that  she  was  expected  by  Miss  Clemmer.  She 
was  left  standing  in  the  hall  while  the  house- 
keeper visited  some  distant  portion  of  the  house ; 
but  finally  the  woman  reappeared  and  told  Anna 
to  follow  her.  She  was  taken  through  a  large 
apartment,  where  the  only  furniture  seemed  to  be 
an  immense  table  standing  upon  a  gorgeous 
crumb  -  cloth,  and  glittering  with  three  or  four 
great  silver  dishes  whose  uses  she  could  not  even 
guess  at ;  then  into  another  hall,  and  up  a  grand 
staircase,  whose  broad,  low  steps  was  a  strange 
revelation  of  ease  to  Anna  after  the  steep,  high 
stairs  she  toiled  up  and  down  at  home.  They 
passed  along  a  beautifully  -  panneled  corridor, 
and,  half  way  down,  the  housekeeper  threw  open 
a  door  and  ushered  her  into  a  great  room  which 
seemed  at  first,  to  her  dazzled  eyes,  to  be  a  gar- 
den of  flowers. 

"  There,  this  be   Miss   Clemmer's  room.     She 


Annans  Day  at  Miss  Clemmer^s,         43 

told  me  to  take  you  up  here  and  leave  you  till  she 
come.  And  she  told  me  to  tell  you  to  spend 
your  time  getting  acquainted  with  her  plants  and 
her  pictures."  She  turned  to  the  door,  mutter- 
ing, —  "  Though  what's  got  into  her  head,  I  can't 
tell,  a-  sending  such  as  this  alone  in  here  ! " 

She  closed  the  door,  leaving  Anna  standing  on 
the  velvet  carpet  entirely  bewildered.  Years 
afterward,  in  the  elegant  parlor  of  her  own  pleas- 
ant parsonage  home,  Anna  said,  speaking  of  that 
morning  and  the  rich  carpet  with  its  soft,  heavy 
pile,  that  she  remembered  feeling,  absurd  though 
it  was,  very  much  as  if  she  had  stepped  upon 
somebody's  best  bed  with  her  shoes  on.  But 
Miss  Clemmer  had  calculated  wisely.  Anna 
could  not  long  feel  ill  at  ease,  left  to  herself  among 
so  many  flowers.  The  callas,  and  oleanders,  and 
azalias  won  her  soon  to  forget  herself  and  come 
familiarly  in  among  them,  and  it  was  not  long  be- 
fore she  had  made  the  circuit  of  the  apartment, 
pausing  before  each  picture,    and,    like  any  other 


44  Anna  May  lie, 

natural  and  uncultivated  young  girl,  trying  all 
the  different  easy  chairs.  She  lingered  a  long 
time  before  Miss  Clemmer's  melodeon ;  but  I  will 
here  say  that  she  never  once  paused  at  the  well  - 
strewn  writing  -  table,  nor  examined  the  cozy 
work -stand  whose  vase  of  house  violets,  togeth- 
er with  the  little  cane  seat  rocking  -  chair 
with  its  snowy  cushions  and  tidies,  standing  at 
the  balcony  window,  spoke  so  strongly  of  her 
teacher. 

She  had  quite  lost  her  sense  of  awkwardness 
and  restraint  when  Miss  Clemmer  came  in,  fol- 
lowed by  a  house  -  maid  who  carried  a  large 
basket  of  ironed  clothes.  She  sat  down,  pre- 
pared to  try  to  understand  all  she  n>ight  wish  her 
to  learn. 

"  I  am  obliged  to  your  mother  for  gratifying 
me,  Anna,"  she  said,  "  and  I  see  you  are  quite  a 
pattern  of  punctuality  ;  for  I  saw  you  at  seven  aa 
you  came  up  the  path  ;  but  at  that  time  I  waa 
busy.      Papa  wished   me   to   hear  Gertie's   nevi 


Anna's  Bay  at  Miss  Olemmer's.         45 

music  teacher  before  engaging  him.  Would  you 
like  to  hear  her  new  song  ?  I  think  it  rather 
pretty." 

You  must  remember  that  it  was  thirteen  years 
ago  when  I  tell  you  that  the  piece  was  "  Hazel 
Dell."  Tame  and  old-fashioned  as  it  would 
seem  now  among  the  brilliant  compositions  which 
load  our  music-racks,  it  was  something  exquisite 
then,  when  it  was  sung  by  so  sweet  a  voice  as 
Miss  Clemmer's,  and  accompanied  by  the  rich 
tones  of  her  melodeon.  As  Anna  stood  by  her 
teacher,  she  knew  that  she  had  been  just  as 
graciously  entertained  as  Fanny  or  Eachel  would 
have  been,  and  she  thought  that  Miss  Clemmer 
must  be  more  like  a  friend  than  an  employer,  so 
they  sat  down  by  the  work-table. 

"  Since  I  am  to  enjoy  your  services,  Anna,  I 
thought  I  would  like  to  give  you  an  outfit ;  and  I 
have  accordingly  purchased  this  pocket  work- 
box  for  you.  I  thought  that  years  from  now 
you  \?ould  like  to  use  something  I  had  given  you." 


46  Anna  Maylie, 

You  may  think  it  unsuitable  for  a  girl  like 
Anna,  as  it  was  a  mother-of-pearl  work-  box 
with  silver  mountings,  — just  as  exquisite  a  pres- 
ent as  she  would  have  given  to  Fanny  or  Eachel, 
Anna  felt.  It  locked  with  a  tiny  silver  lock  and 
key,  and  contained  a  silver  thimble  engraved  with 
Anna's  name,  together  with  the  usual  furnishings, 
all  of  the  best  and  daintiest. 

"  It  is  too  handsome,"  Anna  said  when  she 
could  speak ;  "  much  too  handsome  for  our  house, 
and  my  clothes,  and  me." 

"  But,  Anna,  I  expect  that  your  surroundings 
will  constantly  change,  now  that  you  are  begin- 
ning to  take  an  active  share  in  life.  Besides,  I 
think  it  never  does  a  girl  any  harm  to  have  some- 
thing beautiful  for  her  own.  I  fancied  that  you 
would  like  to  see  it  on  the  table  where  your  books 
and  your  beautiful  geraniums  are."  She  was  ex- 
amining a  pair  of  fine  stockings  as  she  spoke,  and 
she  added,  — "Do  you  know  how  to  pic^  up  rav- 
eled stitches   in  stockings  ?    Few  girls   do ;    but 


Annans  Day  at  Miss  Glemmers,        47 

Ninette  taught  me.  It  is  no  difficult  task  after 
it  is  learned." 

Anna  watched  her,  with  her  delicate  fingers 
deftly  using  a  sewing  needle  to  knit  up  the  brok- 
en stitches  until  the  fine  stocking  seemed  never  to 
have  needed  repairing.  "  Here  are  a  pair  of 
Papa's  socks,  which  you  may  try,"  her  teacher 
said.  "It  is  so  much  easier  to  learn  with  a 
coarser  thread." 

Anna  took  the  work,  but  from  the  first  the  soft 
cotton  stuck  to  her  fingers,  and  it  was  a  long, 
long  time  before  her  simple  task  was  accom- 
plished, and  then  the  mended  place  was  not  soft 
and  imperceptible  like  Miss  Clemmer's.  She  saw 
that  Miss  Clemmer  was  looking  over  the  basket 
of  garments  for  those  which  needed  mending,  or  a 
timely  stitch,  and  she  ventured  to  say,  — "If  you 
please,  give  me  something  as  plain  and  coarse  as 
possible.  My  fingers  seem  so  very  rough  this 
morning.  I  never  noticed  before  that  they  were 
so  big." 


48  Anna  May  lie, 

"  Useful  fingers  often  are,"  Miss  Clemmer  said, 
pleasantly  ;  but  she  could  not  avoid  observing  the 
clumsiness  of  thos€  poor,  reddened  and  roughened 
hands.  In  silence  she  unladed  her  basket  of  its 
linens,  and  lawns,  and  long  clothes,  with  their  fine 
rufflings,  and  tucks,  and  embroideries.  Anna's 
eyes  could  not  help  brightening  with  a  natural 
feminine  delight  as  she  surveyed  them ;  yet  it 
was  with  a  sober  face  that  she  threaded  a  needle 
to  sew  on  a  bit  of  crimped  ruffling  which  had 
been  ripped  from  the  hem  of  a  skirt.  The  deli- 
cate cambric  was  still  less  easily  managed  by  her 
rough  fingers,  neither  could  she  manage  a  needle 
of  the  requisite  fineness,  but  broke  it,  and  then 
tumbled  the  skirt  sadly  in  her  eflforts  to  find  the 
place  again.  Her  face  was  covered  with  a  pro- 
fuse perspiration  by  the  time  she  had  completed 
her  task,  and  her  endeavors  to  refold  the  garment 
were  something  painful  for  Miss  Clemmer  to  wit- 
ness. 

Her  rough  hands  I  With  a  great   efibrt   she 


AnncCs  Day  at  Miss  Clemmer*s,        49 

choked  back  her  tears  and  said,  —  and  was  she 
not  brave,  girls  ?  —  "I  can 't  do  your  work,  after 
all.  Miss  Clemmer.  I  can't  wash  dishes,  and 
mop,  and  have  my  hands  in  hot  suds,  and  split 
wood,  and  pick  up  chips,  and  pare  potatoes,  four 
days  of  the  week,  and  then  come  and  sew  your 
beautiful  clothes  the  other  two  days  ;  —  my  fin- 
gers just  stick  to  everything  I  touch.  I  do  n't 
see  why  I  did  not  think  of  my  hands." 

"  Do  n't  be  discouraged,  dear  Anna,"  said  Miss 
Clemmer,  but  her  own  sweet,  rose  -  leaf  cheek 
was  flooded  with  a  red  tide.  She  ought  to  have 
thought  of  Anna's  hands ;  she  ought  to  have 
known  that  this  was  unsuitable  work  for  her, 
unless,  indeed,  she  could  employ  her  all  the 
time.  She  said  kindly,  —  "Perhaps  you  will 
find  the  starching  and  ironing  pleasanter." 

Anna  shook  her  head.  *'  It  was  your  collars 
and  laces?  I  remember  your  pretty  laces,  and 
your  worked  collars.  I  could  never  handle  them 
without  tearing  them  all  to  pieces.      You   need  a 


50  Anna  Maylie, 

lady  to  do  your  work ;  not  such  as  you  find  me." 
"  A  little   practice    would  make   you  at  home 
with  these  things  ;  that  would  make  a  great  differ- 
ence, I  think." 

"!N'o.  It's  my  hands;  and  they  never '11  be 
any  better.  I  can  't  parboil  them,  and  cut  them, 
and  scratch  them,  and  tear  them  with  the  wood, 
four  days,  and  then  be  fit  to  handle  laces  the 
other  two,"  repeated  poor  Anna,  decisively.  She 
put  down  the  cambrics  she  had  been  looking  at 
without  unfolding,  and  sat  back  in  her  chair. 
"  You  need  a  lady,  Miss  Clemmer," 

Miss  Clemmer  scarcely  knew  how  to  combat  the 
straightforwardness  of  the  young  girl,  or  whether, 
indeed,  it  ought  to  be  combatted.  She  remained 
silent  because  she  knew  not  what  to  say.  She 
regarded  the  hardened  brown  hands,  folded  in 
Anna's  lap,  and  then  remembered  Ninette's  lady 
fingers,  delicate,  soft  and  taper  as  her  own,  and 
she  realized  her  mistake.  She  wondered  that  she 
could  have  made  it.     After  every   possible   view 


Annans  Day  at  Miss  Clemmer's,        51 

of  the  matter,  she  was  obliged  to  come  back  to 
Anna's  common -sense  decision, —  to  do  this 
work  she  must  employ  her  all  the  while,  or  not  at 
all.  Could  she  educate  her  to  become  an  efficient 
lady's  maid?  She  ran  over  Ninette's  myriad 
dainty  duties,  of  every  one  of  which  this  young 
girl  was  ignorant,  and  for  which,  it  began  to 
glimmer  through  Miss  Clemmer's  mind,  she  had 
no  instinctive  taste.  She  would  not  only  have 
to  learn  every  art,  but  have  to  learn  it  mechani- 
cally. Had  she  herself  time  to  teach  her  ?  There 
was  so  much  to  learn  if  she  was  to  be  thoroughly 
fitted  to  support  herself  by  filling  that  position. 
For  instance,  the  simple  care  of  the  wardrobes, 
which  Ninette  assumed  so  readily,  what  a  varied 
knowledge  of  fine  sewing  was  required.  She 
looked  again  at  the  bright,  good  face,  —  how 
frank  and  faithful  its  expression  was  !  —  and  then 
at  the  reddened  hands,  and  at  the  square,  rugged, 
little  figure,  and  she  intuitively  felt  that  Anna 
would  have  no  liking  at  all  for  the  life  of  a  lady's 


52  Anna  Maylie, 

maid.  *^  I  must  not  go  on  with  my  mistake," 
she  said  to  herself,  "if,  indeed,  I  can  atone  for 
the  mischief  I  have  already  wrought ;  for  I  fear 
she  may  have  built  many  hopes  upon  what  I  said 
to  her;  said  so  thoughtlessly,  it  now  seems." 

As  Miss  Clemmer  still  preserved  her  silence, 
the  heavy  tears  began  to  fall  over  Anna's  cheeks. 
She  felt  acutely  all  that  the  silence  implied,  — 
her  undeniable  awkwardness  which  she  had  never 
before  realized,  her  unfitness  to  serve  her  beloved 
teacher,  — in  fact,  she  knew  the  end  of  all  her 
dreams  had  come.     She  rose. 

"  I  think  I  better  go  home,  Miss  Clemmer, 
since  I  am  no  good." 

"No,  Anna,  indeed,  no  !  You  need  not  sew  if 
you  dislike  it.  It  is  of  no  consequence,  except 
that  it  still  leaves  me  to  study  what  is  your  voca- 
tion in  life  ;  because  I  know  there  is  some  em- 
ployment awaiting  you  which  nature  has  fitted 
you  for,  and  which  you  will  enjo}^  Would  you 
like  to  read  to  me  a  short  time  while  I  sew  ?  " 


Annans  Day  at  Miss  Glemmer's,        55 

A  volume  of  Thomas  a  Kempis  lay  upon  the 
work  -  table,  and  near  by  was  Jeremy  Taylor's 
Holy  Living,  and  the  life  of  Madame  Guy  on. 
But  she  gave  the  girl  none  of  this  grave,  medita- 
tive prose  in  which  she  herself  delighted.  Both 
Beulah  and  Prime's  Boat  Life  lay  on  the  melo- 
deon,  and  this  latter  book  she  handed  to  Anna. 
But  Anna  was  a  dry,  monotonous  reader  at  the 
best,  and  I  think  Miss  Clemmer  gave  her  the 
book  only  to  employ  and  detain  her  while  she 
thought.  The  lotus  waters  of  the  Nile,  the  lazy, 
Egyptian  sunshine,  the  waving  palms,  and  the 
dusky  Nubian  boatmen  of  Prime's  enchanting 
pages  blended  before  her  eyes  in  a  distant  mirage 
while  she  incessantly  asked  herself,  "  What  shall 
I  do  with  this  girl  ?  What  ?  " 

And  it  seemed  that  Anna  failed  also  to  inter- 
est herself,  for  in  the  very  middle  of  a  sentence 
she  shut  the  book,  and  said,  — "  I  could  be  taught 
to  work  in  the  kitchen,  Miss  Clemmer,  and  I 
could  soon   do  that  kind  of  work  nicely ;    but  I 


54  Anna  May  lie, 

should  n*t  like  it,  —  not  at  all,  —  I  am  sure  1 
should  not." 

"Yes,  I  know  you  could,  Anna,"  her  teacher 
replied.  "  I  had  glanced  at  such  a  plan  myself, 
out  it  is  not  quite  what  we  would  like  for  you. 
I  think  there  is  something  better,  some  particular 
avocation  for  you.  And  if  there  is,  my  dear, 
doubt  not  that  you  will  be  led  toward  it.  I  think 
there  are  kinds  of  employment  which  will  pay 
you  better  than  domestic  service,  and  be  also 
more  congenial.  You  will  remember,  will  you 
not,  that  it  was  my  purpose  to  give  you  work 
that  would  have  kept  you  near  me  ?  What  would 
you  like  to  do,  Anna? " 

"  Oh,  I  know  very  well  what  I  would  like  to 
do.  Miss  Clemmer,"  Anna  answered  without  a 
moment's  hesitation,  "  only  you  would  n't  think 
it  proper." 

"Proper,  my  dear,  indeed  !    What  is  it  then?" 

"  It  is  to  work  for  your  gardener.  It 's  boy's 
work,   I  know,"   she  hurried   on,    noticing  Miss 


Annans  Day  at  Miss  Clemmer'*s.        55 

Clemmer's  sisprised  look,  and  fearing  reproof. 
"  It 's  always  called  boy's  work ;  but  I  do  n't  care 
what  it 's  called  ;  it 's  easy.  It 's  much  easier 
than  what  I  do  at  home  ;  a  great  deal  easier  than 
scrubbing,  and  sweeping,  and  lifting  heavy  ket- 
tles and  tubs,  and  it 's  so  much  cleaner  and 
sweeter.  Oh,  if  it  could  only  be  that  you  would 
not  think  it  improper,  but  let  me  come,  and  have 
the  gardener  teach  me." 

"  This  is,  indeed,  a  very  strange  fancy  of 
yours,  Anna.  What  could  you  do  with  John- 
son's heavy  tools  ?  How  could  you  use  his  spades^ 
for  instance  ?  " 

"  Oh,  but  Miss  Clemmer,  it  is  not  all  spading. 
His  little  dibbles,  and  rakes,  and  hoes,  and  prun- 
ing shears  are  so  nice; — they  are  not  half  so 
heavy  as  house  things.  Oh,  Miss  Clemmer," — 
and  the  girl  leaned  anxiously  forward  toward  her 
teacher,  her  eyes  actually  filling  with  tears. 

"There,  there,  Anna,  — don't  suffer  yourself 
to  become  excited.     Sit  down  and  let  me  think.'* 


56  Anna  Maylie, 

But  Anna  could  not  control  hei  eagerness. 
Miss  Clemmer  had  never  seen  her  somewhat  im- 
movable features  stirred  before,  and  her  expres- 
sion was  one  of  such  intense  enthusiasm,  and  her 
determination  not  to  be  refused  so  plain,  that  she 
v^as  almost  shocked  vrith  the  idea  which  she  re- 
ceived of  Anna's  strength  of  will.  Her  growing 
conviction,  that  this  was  no  commonplace  girl, 
seemed  to  make  her  duty  only  the  more  difficult. 
She  could  not  avoid  seeing  that  she  had  under- 
taken to  deal  with  a  nature  much  stronger,  and 
more  original  and  daring,  than  her  own.  In- 
deed, she  felt  she  must  even  only  advise  her  after 
the  most  mature  deliberation,  lest  Anna  should 
impetuously  lead  her  where  she  was  not  prepared 
to  go. 

All  this  while  Anna  had  gone  on  talking.  "  I 
remember  so  well  what  I  have  heard  you  say, 
dear  teacher,  that  we  could  be  true  ladies,  no 
matter  who  and  what  we  were  with.  I  always 
think  of  it  at  home  when  it  is  at  the  worst.     Now 


AnnaHs  Day  at  Miss  Clemmer^s,        57 

I  am  sure  that  the  ground,  and  the  grass,  and 
the  weeds  even,  are  nicer  and  more  agreeable 
than  a  kitchen.  I  can  't  think  it  would  make  me 
rougher;  and  I  just  love  everything  out  doors 
so !  And  here  it  would  be  more  refined  than 
among  almost  anybody's  housework  —  among 
your  roses,  and  lilies,  and  arbors,  and  trees,  and 
nice  walks  —  oh,  Miss  Clemmer,  it  would  make 
me  a  lady  if  anything  would  !  " 

Her  torrent  of  entreaty  made  Miss  Clemmer 
almost  nervous,  and  she  made  no  reply.  She 
only  quietly  said, —  "You  have  dropped  your 
book,  Anna.  And  won 't  you  straighten  the 
melodeon  cover,  please?  —  Thank  you.  And 
now  would  n't  you  like  to  go  down  in  the  garden 
a  little  while?  I  will  show  you  the  way  down. 
Tell  Johnson,  if  you  please,  that  I  would  like 
him  to  take  you  over  the  grounds  and  then  into 
the  conservatory.  Come  back  when  you  are 
tired." 

The  girl  understood  instinctively  that   she  was 


58  Anna  Maylie, 

not  at  liberty  to  urge  her  wishes  any  farther  at 
present,  and  she  followed  Miss  Clemmer  down 
stairs  in  silence. 

Miss  Clemmer  came  slowly  back,  and  sat  down 
and  folded  her  hands,  and  tried  once  more  to 
solve  the  intricate  problem  which  she  had  taken 
up  so  confidently.  She  believed  domestic  service 
the  proper,  the  most  comfortable  and  honorable 
employment  for  nine  -  tenths  of  those  of  her  sex 
w^ho  lived  by  their  labor ;  but  she  still  clung  to 
her  first  idea,  that  there  was  a  different  and  a 
more  remunerative  avocation  awaiting  Anna 
May  lie  ;  and  she  decided  that  she  should  not  take 
her  into  the  kitchen  until  her  unfitness  for  any- 
thing else  was  proved.  Quite  as  resolutely  she 
put  aside  the  girl's  own  plans ;  but  they  came 
back  to  her  again  and  again,  with  Anna's  own 
persistence,  until,  at  last,  she  wearily  asked  her- 
self, "And,  pray,  why  is  it  not  proper  ?  "  She 
thoughtfully  reviewed  Anna's  reasonings.  And 
although  she  instinctively  shrank    from  anything 


Annans  Day  at  Miss  Clemmer^s,        59 

like  innovation,  she  yet  felt  that  she  ought  to  hon- 
or her  own  words  to  the  girl,  —  that  if  she  was 
fitted  for  any  particular  avocation,  God  would 
lead  her  towards  it. 

"  I  scarcely  think  Johnson  needs  her,  or  would 
care  to  have  her  come,"  she  pursued. 

Still,  was  there  any  good  reason  why  she 
should  not  here  act  upon  the  same  principle  which 
caused  her  to  hire  so  many  kinds  of  work  done, 
which  she  might  easily  do  herself,  in  order  to 
give  employment  and  wages  to  those  who  needed 
them  ? 

After  an  hour  of  thought  and  perplexity,  she 
said,  —  "If  I  could  only  believe  that  it  would  be 
a  lasting  benefit  to  her,  I  would  do  it.  I  would 
certainly  do  it  if  I  could  in  any  way  become  con- 
vinced that  it  was  really  fitting  her  to  earn  her 
own  living.  I  think  I  have  somewhere  read  of 
women  who  grew  the  small  fruits  for  market  as 
a  business,  and  I  really  don't  see  why  they 
might   not     become   professional    florists.      But 


60  Anna  May  lie. 

in  Anna's  case  I  do  n't  know,  I  am  sure,  wheth- 
er this  would  lead  to  any  actual  good  or  not. 
Yet  at  present  I  can  see  nothing  better  -to  do 
than  to  allow  her  to  follow  her  inclmations.  Let 
me  not  fail  to  trust  that  in   all   things  He  leadeth 


^ 


CHAPTEE  IV. 

THE     PKAYER    MEETING. 

dM^O^NNA  Maylie  thought   that  Friday 


night,  that  she  had  never  known  any- 
thing before  so  peaceful  as  the  twi- 
light which  was  shuttino:  down  so 
dreamily  upon  the  Clemmer  grounds,  and  around 
the  great  house.  For  to  her,  Morristown  Com- 
mon, and  the  house  with  its  waste  land,  were 
always,  witliout  fail,  very  dreary  in  the  edge  of 
the  evening.  At  that  hour,  her  father  was 
always  off  down  at  the  saloon  on  the  corner, 
Jacky  and  little  Jim  away  on  some   distant  street 


62  Anna  Maylie, 

corner  with  other  young  vagabonds,  and  she  was 
left  alone,  watching  long  and  lonesomely  for  her 
tired  and  belated  mother.  It  had  always  been, 
from  her  earliest  remembrance,  her  hour  to  hate 
life. 

But  to  -  night,  twilight  was  a  beautiful  hour ; 
and,  listening  to  her  teacher's  low  tones,  life  re- 
vealed itself  to  her,  grand  and  solemn.  She  list- 
ened dreamily,  leaning  her  head  against  the 
tasement.  The  dewy  odors  of  the  flower  garden 
^lled  the  great,  luxurious  room,  and  from  where 
she  sat  she  could  see  the  house  stretch  away, 
wing  upon  wing,  with  its  lighted  windows,  until 
it  seemed  almost  like  a  palace  or  a  temple  ;  and 
then  she  saw  the  carriage  with  its  lamps  drive 
up,  and  Miss  Gertie  go  out  in  her  white  cloak 
and  floating  tarleton,  all  flowers  and  brightness. 
It  was  all  like  some  beautiful  changing  dream 
without,  and  deeply  contrasted  with  the  peaceful, 
church  -  like  quiet  within  Miss  Clemmer's  room, 
where  the   story   of  our  sin   and  His  suffering, 


The  Prayer  Meeting.  63 

which  she  had  heard  so  often,  was  being  told  to 
her  again,  until  the  thino^s  seen  became  to  her  as 
a  dream,  and  the  things  unseen  life's  only  solemn 
reality.  And  Anna  thought,  as  she  moved  away 
from  the  window  to  the  melodeon  which  her 
teacher  had  opened,  that,  this  time,  she  should 
not  forgot  the  story. 

Both  voices  were  sweet.  Miss  Clemmer's  was 
particularly  so,  while  Anna's  alto  was  strong  and 
clear,  and  ^she  knew  this  part  for  many  tunes 
which  they  sang  in  church  and  Sabbath  school. 
It  seemed  to  her,  as  one  sacred  hymn  after  an- 
other floated  cut  upon  the  peaceful  night,  that 
she  could  never  be  fretful  and  discontented  with 
the  troubles  of  her  lot  again,  since  they  were  but 
for  a  season.  If  she  could  always  be  sure  that 
she  would  remember  her  responsibility  to  God 
«,s  she  felt  it  to  -  night ;  if  she  could  only  re- 
member just  that  and  feel  it,  not  fearfully,  but 
lovingly,  as  she  did  now,  even  her  life  might  be 
grand  and  serene. 


64  Anna  Maylte, 

"  And  I  never  can  feel  again  as  I  have  to  -  day, 
I  think.  Here  I  have  fretted  because  I  could  not 
have  just  my  choice  of  work,  when  it  is  all  only 
to  last  a  few  months  or  years.  Never  once  in 
all  my  life  have  I  considered  what  my  life  would 
be  throughout  all  eternity.  Never  once  !  I  never 
once  remember  out  of  Sunday  school  that  the 
Son  of  God  died  for  me.  I  wonder,  if  I  should 
become  a  Christian,  if  that  would  keep  me  from 
foro^ettino^  it.  Life  can  not  be  such  a  trouble  to 
Christians,  for  I  suppose  these  things  I  think  of 
for  just  to  -  night  are  always  in  their  minds.  Oh, 
I  wish  I  was  a  Christian  too." 

She  wondered  no  longer  at  the  placid  dignity 
of  Dr.  Mason,  at  the  loveliness  of  her  teacher's 
daily  life,  or  at  the  serene  and  beaming  look  of 
go  many  faces  she  had  liked  to  gaze  upon  at 
church.  A  deep,  earnest  longing  to  be  a  Chris- 
tian herself  took  possession  of  Anna  Maylie. 
With  her  it  was  not  so  much  a  sorrowing  over 
her  past  life,    as  it  was  an   all  -  pervading  wish 


The  Prayer  Meeting.  65 

henceforward  to  belong  wholly  to  God.  I  think 
even  then  the  hand  of  Compassion  was  resting 
upon  her.  The  thouglit  of  Jesus  came  to  her 
as  a  great  gladness.  He  was  the  Way,  and  she 
knew  the  Way,  and  there  need  be  no  search. 

She  did  not  comprehend  her  gladness.  But 
there  came  stealing  over  her  such  a  sweet  thank- 
fulness, that  there  was  to  be  a  prayer  meeting 
that  very  night,  not  one  of  the  general  kind  for 
the  whole  world,  but  a  prayer  meeting  for  just 
their  own  little  Sunday-school  class,  — her  class. 
It  semed  to  her  as  if  her  teacher  already  lived  so 
near  heaven  that  she  had  only  to  reach  up  her 
hand  to  take  a  blessing  down.  If  she  might  only 
reach  one  down  to  her  ! 

Miss  Clemmer  sang  on,  though  she  felt  that 
the  evening  was  passing ;  but  she  knew  very  well 
that  the  gate  had  not  o  pened,  nor  had  there 
been  any  ring  at  the  door  -  bell  since  Gertie  went. 
Her  ear  had'  been  painfully  alert.  Her  heart 
sank,  for  now  she  felt  sure  that  none  of  her  class 


66  Anna  Maylie. 

were  coming,  —  not  one  of  them.  Perhaps  even 
Anna  would  not  have  been  there  if  she  had  not 
been,  as  it  were,  entrapped.  Her  head  sank 
upon  the  melodeon.  "  O  Heavenly  Father, 
work  Thou  for  me ;  I  am  nothing ;  I  have 
faUed." 

When  at  last  she  spoke  to  the  girl  who  stood 
at  her  chair,  there  was  a  painful  quiver  in  her 
voice.  "  Anna,  it  is  time  for  our  prayer  -  meet- 
ing, and  I  think  we  will  not  feel  troubled  because 
there  are  only  two  of  us.  Jesus  left,  as  we 
know,  an  especial  promise  to  two  or  three.  He 
must  have  known,  I  love  to  believe,  that  work 
for  Him  would  often  begin  with  just  two  or  three, 
and  so  He  left  that  sweet,  strengthening  promise. 
The  girls  have  none  of  them  come,  but  we  will 
have  our  meeting^  all  the  same." 

"  A  prayer  meeting  for  just  me  ?  "  Anna  re- 
peated at  last,  in  astonishment.  Tears  came  to 
Miss  Clemmer's  eyes  as  she  turned  around,  and 
took  Anna's  hand. 


The  Prayer  Meeting,  67 

"Just  you,  dear.  Do  you  not  know  that  if 
one  of  my  scholars  could  be  given  to  me  as  a 
jewel  of  rejoicing,  I  could  go  on  and  serve  four 
years  longer?  Can  you  tell  me,  Anna,  that 
you  should  certainly  have  come  here  to  -  night, 
if  you  had  not  already  been  here  through  the 
day?" 

Anna  thought  wonderingly  upon  the  earnest- 
ness of  the  question,  and  the  earnestness  which 
she  saw  upon  her  teacher's  face.  "  Why,  I 
never  thought  there  was  such  a  thing  as  not  com- 
ing," she  answered,  simply. 

So  in  the  room  where  she  had  prayed  for  them 
all  so  many  years,  IVIiss  Clemmer  knelt  with  her 
one  faithful  scholar.  Anna  knelt  also,  feeling 
half  friohtened  at  the  thousfht  that  an  entire 
prayer  meeting  was  being  held  for  her.  None  of 
her  teacher's  sorrow  and  longing  could  be  hidden 
in  her  prayer,  and  Anna  was  shaken  to  see  her 
so  moved.     Her  head  sank  low  in  her  hands. 

"  Can  she  have  felt  like  this  for  us,   for  me, 


6S  Anna  Maylie. 

these  four  years  ?  We  were  not  worth  this ;  no 
one  on  earth  is." 

She  knew  nothing  of  prayer  like  this.  She 
had  heard  sinners  prayed  for,  indeed,  and  listened 
unmoved  as  church  going  people  do.  But  this 
tearful  pleading  for  Rachel,  for  Satie,  and  Fanny, 
and  Clara,  and  herself  too,  was  prayer  that  shook 
her  like  a  tempest.  Once  with  a  white  face  she 
glanced  toward  the  door,  and  listened  for  foot- 
steps, she  believed  that  they  must  come ;  she  too 
prayed  that  they  might.  If  they  had  listened  never 
80  carelessly  in  Sunday  -  school,  they  could  not 
hear  the  name  of  Jesus  pronounced  here  without 
tears.  "  Oh,  it  will  never, never  be  so  again  with 
me,"  she  thought,  "  for  I  have  heard  EQm  say 
even  unto  me,  '  Behold  my  hands  and  my  feet ! ' 
I  wonder  if  He  does  not  once  appear  unto  every 
one  who  will  go  and  be  His  disciple." 

Pale,  but  with  a  face  of  light,  Miss  Clemmer 
rose.  Anna  stood  irresolutely  a  moment,  and  then 
went   to   her    teacher's   side.      "  Oh,   I   am   so 


The  Prayer  Meeting.  69 

grieved  ;  I  can  not  bear  to  see  you  suffer  so  ;   we 
are  not  worth  it." 

Miss  Clemmer  hushed  her,  and  drew  her  be- 
side her  on  the  sofa.  "  Anna,  you  are  grieved  to 
see  me  suffer  for  you  ;  and  yet  so  often  you  have 
heard  me  tell  of  Jesus  and  been  unmoved.  You 
know  so  well  of  those  hours  in  the  garden  ;  you 
know  of  His  life  here.  Every  sinner  that  has 
lived,  and  will  live,  He  bore  in  His  heart,  and 
wept  over,  and  sorrowed  over  with  a  grief  to 
which  my  poor  human  grief  is  as  a  shadow  and  a 
dream.  He  died,  Anna,  and  such  a  death  !  Oh, 
I  have  sometimes  thought  that  He  suffered,  in 
dying,  the  pains  of  all  the  millions  of  earth  when 
they  die.  — Have  you  no  heart  to  give  your  Sav 
iour,  Anna?" 

Anna's  face  was  wet  with  tears,  but  she  looked 
up  quietly  into  her  teacher's  eyes.  "  I  believe  1 
love  Him  ;  I  know  I  love  Him.  But  that  is  so 
little  ;  how  can  I  show  it  ?  " 

A  sound  as  of  a  sob  outside  the  door  arrested 


70      •  Anna  Maylie, 

them.  Miss  Clemmer  hastily  crossed  the  floor, 
but  she  saw  no  one.  She  went  down  the  pas- 
sage, but  there  was  no  one  to  be  seen.  She 
came  back  to  the  window  and  sat  down.  As  she 
held  Anna's  hand  in  hers,  and  tried  to  pray  for 
wisdom  in  her  hour  of  rejoicing,  she  became  con- 
scious of  a  swift  figure  passing  under  the  trees 
skirting  the  walk,  and  afterwards  she  felt  sure 
that  she  saw,  in  the  faint  starlight,  the  gate  open 
and  close.  Something  about  the  form,  its  swift 
grace  perhaps,  aroused  her  suspicions,  but  she 
preferred  not  to  speak  of  them.  She  turned  back 
to  Anna.  But  the  girl  had  withdrawn  into  her- 
self, and  Miss  Clemmer  did  not  think  it  best  to 
urge  her  confidence ;  she  knCw  the  heart  when 
full  would  overflow. 

Looking  at  her  watch,  she  said,  "  It  is  nine,  I 
see ;  and  I  suppose  I  must  send  you  back  to  your 
mother.  I  shall  want  you  again  soon.  I  would 
like  to  think  over  m}^  plans  for  a  few  days.  I 
am  not  quite  sure  but  I  shall  adopt   yours ;  and 


The  Prayer  Meeting,  71 

then  1  will  see  you.  I  will  talk  to  Johnson 
about  work  among  the  strawberries.  I  do  not  see 
why  a  girl  may  not  properly  enough  trim  rose  - 
bushes,  and  cut  off  strawberry  runners.  I  will 
soon  come  round  and  see  you,  Anna." 

She  would  not  withhold  any  brightness  from 
Anna's  life ;  she  told  her,  that  she  might  have  it 
for  her  hope  and  cheer.  She  went  down  with 
her  to  the  garden  gate,  and  as  she  bade  her  good 
night,  she  said,  "  Do  not  be  concerned  about  the 
way  to  show  it ;  only  be  sure  you  love  Jesus. 
You  can  not  then  avoid  showing  it.  For  our  re- 
ligion, Anna,  is  life ;  in  one  sense  it  is  like  the 
life  of  the  beautiful  tree  beneath  which  you  stand  ; 
if  it  is  alive,  it  will  put  forth  leaves,  and  in  due 
time,  flowers  and  fruit.  You  can  not  hide  the 
*  Life  of  God  in  the  soul  of  man.'  " 


CHAPTER  V. 

SEAECHmG  FOR  A  CROSS. 

Saturday  brought  many  sad  and 
weary  reflections  to  Miss  Clemmer. 
Pondering  over  the  lesson  for  to  -  mor- 
l\  i  row,  her  thoughts  would  constantly 
revert  to  the  fact  that  only  one  of  her  girls  came 
to  her  prayer  meeting.  They  had  had  but  one 
opportunity,  it  is  true.  Still,  she  felt  strangely 
hopeless  of  them  all.  And  she  went  to  her  class, 
the  next  day,  in  the  same  discouraged  mood,  and 
still  undecided  what  she  would  say  to  them 


Searching  for  a  Oi'oss,  73 

Her  young  ladies  were  all  in  their  places,  but 
she  felt  there  was  a  change.  As  she  took  her 
seat,  she  missed  that  indescribable,  pleasant, 
little  stir  among  them,  the  smile  of  wordless 
greeting,  and  the  old  look  of  trust  and  affection. 
To  -  day  their  very  quietness  gave  her  the  feeling 
that  between  them  and  her  had  arisen  a  2:rowin2: 
distance.  Could  it  be  possible  that,  in  her  solici- 
tude for  them,  she  had  raised  a  barrier  between 
herself  and  her  girls  ?  Had  she  made  a  mistake  ? 
Was  it  possible  for  her  Heavenly  Father  to  allow 
any  service  performed  for  Him  in  such  singleness 
and  sorrow  of  heart  to  become  a  mistake  ? 

With  a  fervent  prayer  to  be  taught  of  God 
what  to  do,  and  His  way  of  accomplishing  it,  she 
put  her  new  troubles  aside,  and  took  up  the  les- 
son for  the  day  with  as  much  of  the  old  freedom 
as  she  could  command.  But  a  new  disquiet 
seized  upon  her.  Anna  Maylie  had  not  yet 
come.  One  anxious  thought  after  another  passed 
through  her  mind,  and  she  felt  how  mechanically 


74  Anna  May  lie, 

she  was  going  on  with  the  lesson.  Could  the 
child  also  have  made  a  mistake?  Could  feeling, 
excitement,  or  sympathy  perhaps,  have  misled 
her?  and,  conscious  of  her  mistake,  was  she  now 
shrinking  from  meeting  her  teacher?  These 
thoughts  too  Miss  Clemmer  tried  to  put  aside. 
She  reasoned  firmly  with  herself,  that  never  yet 
had  her  faith  been  fed  with  Dead  Sea  apples. 
She  remembered  how,  all  the  morning  while  pre- 
paring for  church,  and  all  Saturday,  she  had  felt  a 
peaceful  assurance  respecting  Anna, —  that  the 
Good  Shepherd  had  been  seeking  her ;  that  the 
Master  had  called  her  into  His  service. 

She  at  last  became  satisfied  that  this  was  a  day 
of  temptations,  a  day  through  which  she  was 
called  to  live  by  faith,  and  not  by  sight.  She 
experienced  a  great  relief  when  she  at  last  saw 
Anna  coming  up  the  aisle,  with  the  same  pleasant 
look  of  peace  resting  on  her  bright  face.  She 
felt  sudden  contrition  too.  She  bowed  her  head 
in   humility   as   she   remembered   that,    all   this 


Searching  for  a  Cross,  75 

while,  she  had  been  murmuring,  because  she  had 
not  received  still  greater  reward  for  her  one  small 
service.  "  Should  I  have  asked  my  entire  class 
for  my  one  prayer  meeting  ?  "  she  thought  in  her 
self-reproach. 

And  then,  as  if  to  strengthen  her,  a  voice 
sounded  sweetly  in  her  ear  : 

"  For  as  the  rain  cometh  down,  and  the  snow 
from  heaven,  and  return eth  not  thither,  but  wa- 
tereth  the  earth,  and  maketh  it  bring  forth  and 
bud,  that  it  may  give  seed  to  the  sower,  and 
bread  to  the  eater  : 

"  So  shall  my  word  be  that  goeth  forth  out  of 
my  mouth ;  it  shall  not  return  unto  me  void,  but 
it  shall  accomplish  that  which  I  please,  and  it 
shall  prosper  in  the  thing  whereto  I  sent  it." 

As  the  hour  of  school  drew  to  its  close,  she 
pondered  whether  she  ought  not  to  invite  Anna 
home  with  her  for  an  hour's  conversation.  She 
might  strengthen  her  perhaps,  and  perhaps  ad- 
vise  her.     But   she   felt  intuitively  that  it  was 


76  Anna  Maylie, 

better  to  leave  Anna  to  seek  her.  "  If  she  needs 
me,  she  will  some.  I  am  fearful  of  confusing 
her  ;  her  ways  are  not  my  ways."  She  could  not, 
however,  resist  the  impulse  to  take  the  girl's 
hand  in  hers  as  they  sang  for  the  last  time. 
Anna  felt  the  closer  sympathy,  the  dearer  tie. 
As  they  were  dismissed,  she  turned,  and  mur- 
mured again  the  one  only  sentence  she  seemed, 
as  yet,  able  to  utter.  "I  know  I  love  Jesus.  I 
know  I  do.  Miss  Clemmer." 

Her  gentle,  beaming  look  made  light  in  a  dark 
place,  and  though  Anna  herself  had  gone,  the 
look  still  strengthened  Miss  Clemmer,  as  she 
gently  but  firmly  detained  the  rest.  "  The  prayer 
meeting  for  my  class  will  be  held  regularly  every 
Friday  night  in  my  room.  If  they  do  not  come, 
I  may  trust,  may  I  not,  that  my  girls  do  not  for- 
get it?" 

She  tried  to  scan  each  countenance.  Clara 
and  Satie  were  studiously  indifferent.  Fanny 
Rowland  had  quite   averted   her  face.     Neither 


Searching  for  a  Cross.  77 

would  Kachel  meet  that  sorrowful,  searching  blue 
eye ;  but  the  workings  of  her  dark,  haughty  face 
revealed  what  she  could  not  entirely  hide, —  a 
struggle  going  on  in  the  heart  beneath.  Miss 
Clemmer  saw  it  all,  and  she  remembered  now 
that  she  had  noticed  that  same  look  of  hopeless- 
ness upon  Kachel's  face  before,  during  the  past 
year.  She  continued,  still  detaining  them,  — 
"  Already  one  of  those  so  dear  to  me  has  found 
the  pearl  of  great  price.  Girls,  Anna  knows 
that  she  loves  Jesus  !  " 

She  turned  and  let  them  pass  out.  One  by 
one  they  went  by  her,  and  made  no  sign.  In- 
stead, they  looked  willful,  and  hardened  too,  she 
thought.  Her  girls,  who  always  had  had  some 
sweet  word  for  her  before,  —  for  Anna  May  lie 
had  not  been  alone  in  her  loving  admiration  for 
her  teacher.  At  first,  she  thought  that  Eachel 
half  intended  to  pause  and  speak  to  her,  but  the 
irresolution  and  the  hope  were   alike  momentary. 

"  My  girls  have  hardened  their  hearts  against 


78  Anna  Maylie, 

me ! "  she  said,  so  sadly,  again  and  again  that 
afternoon.  But  the  promise  of  the  morning  re- 
peated to  her  again  and  again  its  lesson  of  faith, 
and  through  it  all  she  found  herself  at  last  be- 
lieving that  merely  human  words  like  hers  would 
have  never  alarmed  them  so.  She  went  forth 
cherishing  a  trembling  faith  that  the  Holy  Spirit 
was  hovering  near  her  work. 


Friday  night  came  round  again,  and  it  brought 
Anna  Maylie  to  her  teacher's  prayer  meeting, 
but  brought  not  one  of  the  rest.  Still,  doubt  not 
that  that  prayer  meeting  accomplished  "  the  work 
whereto  it  was  sent."  For  that  night  a  great 
blessing  of  faith  was  let  down  upon  the  teacher's 
tired  heart,  and  though  her  girls  indeed  were  not 
there,  she  felt,  for  the  first  time,  quietly  secure 
as  to  the  final  result  of  her  work ;  and  she  felt 
too  that  it  was  by  no  means  necessary  that  her 
girls  should,  first  of  all,  come  to  her  prayer 
meeting. 


Searching  for  a  Cross.  79 

A  strange  excitement  seemed  to  have  posses- 
sion of  Anna  that  night  as  she  knelt  by  her  teach- 
er's side.  And  as  she  drew  near  the  close  of  her 
own  petition,  Miss  Clemmer  herself  grew  aware 
that  the  child  was  trembling.  As  Miss  Clemmer 
ceased,  Anna  lifted  her  voice  in  a  swift  utterance, 
—  a  swift,  broken  utterance  which  told  its  own 
tale  to  the  teacher  of  the  struo^ole  which  Anna 
had  gone  through  over  the  performance  of  this 
duty.  And  it  was  a  strange  prayer  too, —  the 
prayer  of  a  strong,  simple  nature  bent  upon  its 
one  purpose.  It  was  not  a  prayer  for  more  love; 
it  came  from  a  heart  full  to  the  brim  of  love ;  but 
the  burden  of  its  crying  was,  "  Lord,  what  wilt 
thou  have  me  to  do  ?  " 

"  Lord,  why  hast  thou  bestowed  upon  her  the 
worker's  zeal,  and  withheld  the  worker's  talent?" 
Miss  Clemmer  found  herself,  almost  unconscious- 
ly, questioning  as  the  girl's  intensity  weighed 
down  upon  her. 

From  the  depths  of  her  own  humility  came  the 


80  Anna  Maylie, 

reproving  answer  :  "  0  thou  of  little  faith  ! 
Was  it  not  so  from  the  beginning?  Hath  not 
God  chosen  the  weak  things  of  the  world  to  con- 
found the  things  which  are  mighty  ?  The  Master 
may  even  choose  that  she,  and  not  you,  shall  ac- 
complish the  precious  work  which  you  have 
planned." 

As  the  evening  wore  to  its  close,  and  they  lin- 
gered at  the  melodeon.  Miss  Clemmer  said,  "  I 
have  said  very  little  to  you,  Anna,  but  I  think 
you  must  know  what  it  is  to  me  that  you  have 
entered  the  new  life.  I  have  not  questioned 
you,  because  1  can  not  make  it  seem  to  myself 
that  it  is  necessary.  It  seems  to  me  that  youi 
measure  of  faith  and  love  is  running  over,  my 
happy  Anna.  I  also  know  that  you  love  Jesus. 
If  you  needed  my  counsel  it  would  be  different." 

Anna  smiled  back  her  teacher's  look,  but  then 
her  brow  clouded,  and  she  laid  aside  her  bonnet 
again,  and  sat  dowm.  "I  am  your  happy  Anna," 
she   said.     "But  yet   I  have  my  troubles.     And 


Searching  for  a   Cross,  81 

to  me  they  are  great  troubles,  thougli  they  may 
not  seem  much  to  one  like  you." 

"  Tell  me  about  them,  Anna.  I  should  be  glad 
to  have  you." 

Anna  did  not  hesitate.  "You  told  me  that  if 
I  loved  Jesus  I  could  show  it ;  —  you  said  there 
would  be  ways." 

"  And  you  do  not  find  it  so  ?  " 

"  Not  yet.  I  have  found  nothing  that  I  am 
satisfied  to  call  a  way.  Do  you  think  that  just  to 
be  happy  is  enough  ?  to  be  always  just  so  pleas- 
ant and  even  -  tempered  is  anything  ?  It  is  so 
very  easy,  now,  never  to  be  vexed.  Why,  Miss 
Clemmer,  I  am  almost  frightened  sometimes  be- 
cause I  find  no  cross  anywhere  in   my  religion  I  " 

"  So  you  find  no  crosses,  Anna?  " 

"No  —  that  is  —  yes.  Miss  Clemmer,  it  was 
hard  to  pray  here  to  -  night,  but  in  such  a  very 
few  moments  after  I  would,  and  did,  there  was 
no  more  strusfsjle  at  all  about  it.  But  what  I 
meant  is,  that  I  am   almost  unhappy  because  1 


82  Anna  Maylie. 

can  find  no  work  to  do  for  Him ;  no  hard  {hing 
to  do  that  would  show  that  I  love  him." 

Crosses  had  been  plenty  for  Miss  Clemmer. 
Should  she  search  to  find  them  for  those  willing 
shoulders?  She  conscientiously  went  over  the 
girl's  duties  so  far  as  she  could  know  them,  and 
searched  to  see  if  that  strangely  -  coveted  cross 
was  not  among  them.  "  Of  course  you  read  your 
Bible?"  she  said.  "You  read  it  as  you  never 
did  before,  praying  for  light  to  read  it  by;  you 
could  not  neglect  to  pray  and  still  be  so  happy  ; 
you  restrain  selfishness? — why,  Anna,  I  think 
you  can  not  avoid  the  confession  of  your  Saviour  ; 
avoid  showing  that  you  love  him  in  a  thousand 
ways." 

Anna  shook  her  head  sadly  over  Miss  Clem- 
mer's  help.     "  All  this  has  been  so  easy." 

"  You  want  some  distinct,  positive  work  to  do, 
perhaps.     Is  that  it?" 

"  That  is  it.     Eeal  work  —  hard  work." 

"Does  it  not  lie  at  your  feet,  dear?     There  are 


Searching  for  a  Cross,  83 

those  little  brothers.  Are  they  in  the  true  way  ?  " 
Anna  made  no  answer  now.  There  was  cer- 
tainly work.  Miss  Clemmer  enlarged  not  upon 
her  suggestions.  She  felt  it  was  better  to  allow 
one  like  Anna  to  find  her  own  way  to  do  her  own 
work.  Anna  sat  there  a  long  time  silent,  but  as 
she  rose  to  go,  and  said  good  night,  she  added, 
"  It's  Jacky  and  Jim  I  do  suppose.  I  am  afraid 
that  it  was  pleasant  hard  work  that  I  wanted,  aft- 
er all." 

As  Miss  Clemmer  closed  the  door,  she  sighed 
over  this  first  cloud  upon  Anna's  happy  face. 
She  knew  that  she  had  found  one  of  the  most 
heavy  of  the  Christian's  crosses, —  the  coming 
down  of  the  soul  from  the  heavenly  hights  to  do 
a  commonplace  duty. 


CHAPTER  VI 


ber   life. 


RACHEL. 

HAD  many  opportunities  of  ob- 
serving Miss  Clemmer,  during  the  years 
I  lived  in  Morristown,  and  1  became 
deeply  impressed  with  the  harmony  of 
She  was  placed  in  the  very  highest 
circle  of  society,  and  I,  like  many  others,  had 
always  considered  this  the  most  difficult  place  of 
all  for  a  Christian  to  be  a  consistent  Christian. 
But  Miss  Clemmer  moved  in  it  without  casting  a 
single  reproach  upon  the  cause  of  Christ.  She 
was  a  lovely  example  of  obedience  to  the  injunc- 
tion, to  be  in  the  world  but  not  of  it.     She  shared 


Rachel.  85 

in  many  of  its  unobjectionable  pleasures  ;  she  had 
a  pleasant,  reasonable  interest  in  the  fashions, 
and  in  new  books,  and  pictures,  and  in  the  pub- 
lic events  around  her.  She  received  and  paid 
calls,  and  I  am  sure  was  none  the  less  a  sincere 
Christian  because  she  carried  a  silver  card  -  case, 
and  chose  that  her  velvets  should  be  royal  and  Jaer 
laces  real. 

I  saw  all  this,  but  1  observed  at  the  same 
time, —  and  no  one  could  fail  to  see  it, —  that  she 
shone  in  society  with  a  light  not  of  this  world. 
Although  it  was  always  unobtrusively,  she  was 
ever  busy  about  her  Master's  work.  Her  culti- 
vated and  Christian  taste  controlled  a  large  circle 
in  the  selection  of  books,  the  choice  of  lectures 
and  amusements  and  buying  of  music,  and  in  the 
matter  of  social  entertainments.  And  I  can  not 
tell  you  how  many  reputations  she  has  saved,  how 
many  giddy  girls  she  has  held  back  from  dan- 
gerous paths,  how  much  boldness  she  checked, 
how  many  scandals  she  quietly  quenched,    and 


86  Anna  May  lie. 

how  she  raised  the  standard  of  womanly  character 
in  the  minds  of  all  those  with  whom  she  was  sur- 
rounded. I  think  that  none  in  the  circle  of  her 
acquaintance, —  not  even  the  most  worldly  wom- 
an or  the  boldest  skeptic, —  ever  sneered  at  Miss 
Clemmer's  religion. 

So  I  trust  you  will  not  fear  that  the  influence 
of  her  little  Friday  prayer  meeting  had  faded 
away  from  her  mind,  when  I  tell  you  that  I  saw 
her  on  Saturday,  in  the  Clemmer  carriage,  paying 
a  long  list  of  fashionable  calls.  During  the  after- 
noon, I  had  seen  it  waiting,  here  and  there,  in 
several  streets,  and  just  as  I  was  going  home,  I 
saw  it  glittering  across  the  Common  and  pausing 
in  front  of  Tom  Maylie's  little,  old,  brown 
house. 

Anna  came  out  to  the  gate  just  a  little  awed  by 
the  showy  equipage  ;  but  the  primrose  -  gloved 
fingers  clasped  the  brown  hand  with  a  cordiality 
as  earnest  as  Anna's  own.  "I  can  not  stop, 
Anna,  but  Johnson  says  the  roses  must  be  cut  on 


Eachel.  87 

Monday  for  the  rose  water,  and  the  housekeeper 
wishes  to  make  the  strawberry  preserves  next 
week  also ;  so  if  you  still  retain  your  fancy  for 
out-  of- door  life,  we  can  keep  you  busy  all  the 
week.  And  I  must  not  forget  to  add,  that  John- 
son has  taken  quite  a  fancy  to  you.  And  the 
wages  too,  —  I  shall  pay  you  fifty  cents  per  day, 
if  that  will  be  satisfactory  to  yourself  and  to  your 
mother." 

"Fifty  cents — so  much? — that  will  be  five 
cents  —  only  five  cents  !  " 

"  Only  five  cents  ?  "  repeated  Miss  Clemmer, 
inquiringly. 

Anna  colored.     "  One  -  tenth,  I  meant." 

"  One  -  tenth  ?  I  do  not  quite  comprehend 
you,  Anna." 

She  hesitated  a  little,  and  then  answered, 
quietly : 

"  The  Bible  system  of  giving  is  what  I  meant. 
I  always  thought  I  should  like  to  give  in  that  old 
way,  Miss  Clemmer.     I  hope  I  do  n't  seem  pre- 


88  Anna  Maylie, 

sumptuous  in  speaking  so,  Miss  Clemmer  ;  but  I 
like  Bible  ways.  Only  ^ye  cents  is  such  a  very 
small  sum, —  such  a  very  small  sum  to  give.  I 
do  n't  know  what  to  do  about  it,  after  all." 

Miss  Clemmer  regarded  the  girl  in  silence. 
She  was  looking  far  away,  and  seemed  so  anx- 
ious, and  so  earnest.  She  remembered  what  the 
girl's  own  needs  must  be  and  the  needs  of  the 
family.  She  said  to  herself,  "  I  should  not  bear 
comparison  at  all  with  this  little  cottage  Chris- 
tian. I  wonder,  too,  where  her  thoroughness  will 
lead  her." 

Finally  she  spoke  :  "  You  may  be  contented, 
Anna.  Be  sure  that  when  God  wishes  you  to 
give  more  than  five  cents  for  His  cause,  he  wil) 
at  the  same  time  place  more  than  fifty  cents  in 
your  hands  to  use." 

She  bade  her  good-  bye,  and  was  driven  away. 

Anna  stood  by  the  gate,  absently  watching  the 
silver  gleam  of  carriage  and  harness  until  all  was 
out  of  sight.     She  was  evidently  busy  with  some 


RacheL  89 

train  of  reasoning ;  for  slie  said  aloud  at  last, 
"  Would  it  be  right,  then,  to  rest  contented  with 
fifty  cents,  since  five  cents  is  all  I  owe  of  it  to  the 
Lord?  She  could  not  have  meant  anything  like 
that.  Oh,  I  never  cared  for  money  as  I  do 
now.  " 

Miss  Clemmer  rode  home  pondering  upon 
Anna  May  lie's  strange  thoroughness,  and  feeling 
what  a  responsible  position  it  was  to  stand  in  the 
place  of  guide  to  such  a  strong  nature, —  a  nature 
not  to  be  led  and  guided  after  all,  she  saw,  but 
one  that  needed  help,  judicious  help  and  sympa- 
thy. 

As  she  left  the  carriage  and  entered  the  house, 
the  housekeeper  met  her  in  the  hall  and  said, 
"  There  he's  a  young  lady  in  the  large  drawing  - 
room.  Miss  Clemmer.  She  called  when  you  was 
out,  and  I  told  her,  and  told  her  as  Miss  Gertie 
too  was  away  at  the  picnic,  but  she  said  as  she 
would  wait  until  you  came ;  and  she  be's  in  there 
now." 


90  Anna  Maylie. 

Miss  Clemmer  turned  back  and  entered  the 
drawing  -  room.  In  the  shadows  of  the  heavy 
curtains  she  did  not  at  first  recognize  her  visitor, 
but  after  a  moment  she  saw  that  it  was  one  of  her 
class, —  Rachel  Mansfield.  She  greeted  her 
warmly :  "  It  is  so  long  since  you  were  here, 
Rachel." 

But  Miss  Clemmer  speedily  saw  that  some  es- 
pecial errand  had  brought  her ;  for  upon  all  topics 
the  conversation  soon  flagged.  Rachel,  so  good 
a  talker,  had  only  monosyllables  for  "Beulah," 
for  the  last  volume  of  Robertson's  sermons,  for 
Archbishop  Manning's  Apostacy,  for  "  Star 
Papers,"  for  the  coming  strawberry  festival,  for 
Esquire  Rowland's  approaching  departure  for 
Europe  ; —  only  monosyllables,  or  some  brief  re- 
mark. However,  she  was  easily  prevailed  upon 
to  stay  to  tea  with  Miss  Clemmer ;  but  as  they 
entered  the  hall  on  their  way  back,  she  laid  her 
hand  on  Miss  Clemmer's  arm.  "Not  back  there, 
Miss  Clemmer.     Won't  you  take  me  to  your  own 


Rachel,  91 

room,  —  the  little  prayer  meeting  room  ?  I  must 
see  you  quite  alone." 

Miss  Clemmer  led  the  way  thither,  and  as  they 
entered  the  dimly  -lighted  apartment,  the  haughty 
girl  turned  and  buried  her  face  on  her  teacher's 
shoulder.  "I  am  so  wretched, —  so  wicked  and 
wretched,"  she  sobbed  ;  "  and  if  you  do  n't  help 
me  I  shall  perish  now  ; —  there  must  be  an  end 
soon,  I  know." 

"  Why,  Rachel !  "  and  Miss  Clemmer  led  her 
to  the  sofa  and  sat  down  by  her.  "  What  has 
made  you  wretched  ?  You  know  that  I  will  help 
you  if  I  can  ;  but  I  think  —  it  is  not  my  help  that 
you  need,  is  it,  Rachel?" 

"Yes,  yours.  You  can  pray.  You  must 
pray,  for  you  have  prayed  for  me,  Miss  Clemmer, 
until  I  am  utterly  miserable,  and  you  must  not 
leave  me  now.  Four  years  I  know  you  have 
been  praying  for  me,  and  every  year  I  have  grown 
Btiil  more  wretched." 

The  girl  was  rocking  to  and  fro,  and  there  waa 


92  Anna  Maylie. 

no  color  in  her  face,  save  the  blackness  of  her 
eyes  and  the  pallor  of  her  cheeks.  "  I  think  1 
am  lost,  though,"  she  added,  drearily. 

Miss  Clemmer  spoke  very  gently  to  her.  "  No, 
Rachel.  If  that  were  so,  I  can  not  think  you 
would  feel  such  concern." 

"  Yes  I  should  ;  for  you  know  nothing  of  how 
I  have  grieved  away  the  Spirit, —  the  Holy  Spirit 
which  I  know  has  striven  with  me.  Why,  I 
have  just  fought  not  to  come  to  your  prayer 
meetings  !  I  came  one  evening.  Miss  Clemmer, 
but  I  tore  myself  away  and  went  back.  I  walked 
my  room  all  night  that  night.  And  I  meant  not 
to  come  to  you  at  all !  Yet  I  am  here,  and  if 
you  can  help  me,  you  may; — if  you  could,  I 
suppose  I  should  be  glad.  But,  Miss  Clemmer, 
I  am  so  wicked  that  I  do  n't  even  know  that  I 
want  to  be  a  Christian !  I  doubt  if  I  care  for 
more  than  in  some  way  to  be  relieved  of  my 
wretchedness.  Is  not  that  feeling  the  next  step 
to  being  lost?" 


EacheL  93 

**It  must  indeed  be  very  terrible  to  feel,  iny 
dear  Racliel.  Yet  I  do  n^t  think  you  really  do 
feel  so.  I  think,  instead,  that  so  much  loss  of 
sleep  has  disturbed  your  mental  balance.  I  do 
not  doubt  your  wretchedness  of  soul,  my  poor, 
sin  -  sick  child ;  still,  a  part  of  this  utter  hope- 
lessness about  yourself  comes  of  physical  pros- 
tration ,  —  hush  —  do  n't  try  to  talk  any  more 
now.  Let  me  talk  to  you,  and  your  answers 
need  be  only  ^yes'  and  ^no.'  Try  to  think 
now  of  what  I  ask  you.  Is  not  your  very  strong- 
est feeling  an  utter  abhorrence  of  yourself?  " 

The  girl  sprang  up  from  Miss  Clemmer's  sooth- 
ing hand.  "  Abhor  myself  ?  I  hate  myself !  I 
have  no  respect  for  myself  left !  For  four  years 
I  have  been  too  proud  —  I  actually  refused  —  to 
bend  my  knee  to  my  Maker,  to  my  Creator  !  I, 
the  poor  child  of  a  day  !  I  have  repeatedly  and 
willfully  turned  my  back  upon  my  Saviour, —  the 
Prince  of  Life  who  died  for  me  !  Yes,  I  know  it 
all.      He   died   for   me.     I   have    shrunk   from 


94  Anna  Maylie. 

naming  His  name !  I  have  trampled  upon  all 
His  kindness !  And  I  have  avoided  my  best 
friends  because  they  loved  Him ;  and  I  have 
walked  boldly  with  His  enemies  !  Oh,  do  you 
not  see?  —  I  have  done  it  all  so  willfully,  so  de- 
fiantly !  I  believe  I  have  sometimes  rejoiced  in 
my  victories  when  I  have  broken  away  from  His 
Holy  Spirit  and  gone  my  own  ways  ! " 

Miss  Clemmer  sat  there,  delicate,  slender, 
white,  and  trembling  before  this  dark,  impetu- 
ous girl,  as  she  poured  forth  this  torrent  of  words, 
turning  her  eyes  imperiously  upon  her  at  the 
close  of  each  sentence  as  if  she  would  ask,  "  What 
can  you,  or  your  prayers,  do  for  one  like  me?" 
Yet  when  Eachel  sank  back  exhausted  in  her  seat, 
she  quietly  resumed,  "  I  can  see  why  you  hate 
yourself,  as  you  say.  It  is  for  persisting  in  sin- 
ning and  staying  away  when  you  long  so  for  the 
peace  and  the  purity  of  the  Christian  life.  You 
are  fighting  so  hard  all  the  while  not  to  be  a 
Christian,  Kachel,  you  must  see  that  the  Holy 


Rachel.  95 

Spirit  has  not  deserted  jou,  or  the  struggle  would 
be  over.  Why,  Rachel,  I  truly  think  you  have 
only  to  give  up  and  let  your  heart  go  its  own 
way  !  I  truly  think  that,  so  thoroughly  do  you 
hate  your  own  sinfulness,  you  have  only  to  turn 
and  stretch  out  your  hand  toward  the  Saviour, 
and  you  would  be  a  Christian  !  I  can  see  that 
you  are  holding  yourself  away  only  by  a  most 
terrible  exercise  of  your  will.  I  am  certain,  from 
the  very  struggle,  that  Jesus  is  extending  forgive- 
ness to  you  still.  How  can  you  hold  out  ?  How 
can  you  refuse  this  faithful  love,  my  poor 
Rachel?" 

"  I  can  not  give  up,"  she  answered,  sadly.  "  I 
am  powerless  to  do  that." 

"  Can  you  not  confess  that  you  want  to  be  a 
Christian?     You  do,  do  you  not?" 

"  I  really,  really  do  not  know,"  said  the  girl, 
piteously. 

"  My  poor  Rachel !  Yet  I  feel  certain  that 
you  do.     Else  why  did  you  come  to  me  ?     If  you 


96  Anna  Maylie, 

had  been  contented  to  remain  a  sinner,  you  would 
not  have  come.     Do  you  not  see,  Eachel?" 

"  I  was  so  wretched  I  could  not  stay  at  home,'* 
Rachel  answered.  She  rose  as  she  spoke,  and 
looked  around  her  so  wearily  that  Miss  Clemmer's 
eyes  filled  with  tears.  "  I  thought  there  might 
be  ease  found  with  you, —  but  it  is  just  the  same. 
No,  Miss  Clemmer,  I  will  not  stay  any  longer 
to  -  night ;  but  when  I  am  gone  you  may  pray 
for  me.     I  need  it,  God  knows  !  " 

But  at  the  door  she  came  back.  "  Anna 
Maylie  —  did  you  tell  us  that  Anna  Maylie  — 
that  she" — 

"  Yes,  Eachel.     Anna  has  found  peace." 

"  How  was  it  ?  "  she  asked,  hesitatingly. 

"  Simply  by  loving  Jesus.  She  forgot  herself, 
Rachel." 

After  a  pause  she  inquired,  "  Does  she  live  at 
home  ?  "  and  bidding  Miss  Clemmer  good  night, 
she  was  gone. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

THE   STORY  OF  JOSEPH. 

NNA  rose  on  Saturday  morning, 
after  the  last  prayer  meeting,  feeling 
just  as  decided  and  earnest  to  do 
something  about  Jacky  and  Jim  as 
she  did  when  she  left  Miss  Clemmer  the  night 
before.  From  the  very  first,  her  Christianity 
was  a  working  Christianity,  and  it  had  from  the 
very  first  revealed  itself  by  work.  She  had  been 
utterly  faithful  in  her  humble,  little  field.  At 
home,  she  had  taken  more  steps  than  ever  to 
make   the   house  attractive.      She  had  read   in 


98  Anna  Maylie, 

Sunday  -  school  books  of  girls  who  had  made  a 
home  as  shabby  as  hers  so  pleasant  a  place  that 
the  fathers  and  brothers  were  won  to  stay  by 
their  own  fireside.  But  she  could  n't  see  that  her 
nicely  -  ironed,  white  table  -  cloths,  and  the  pitch- 
er of  roses  which  she  placed  among  the  plates  of 
potatoes  and  bread,  had,  as  yet,  any  effect  upon 
her  father  and  brothers.  So  soon  as  the  meals 
were  over,  they  were  off  and  away,  and  they 
came  home  as  boisterous  as  ever.  It  was  with 
the  greatest  difficulty  that  she  ever  kept  Jacky 
and  Jim  within  reach  of  her  voice  for  five  min- 
utes. But  this  morning,  by  extra  efforts  and 
much  maneuvering,  she  succeeded  in  retaining 
them  until  her  mother  was  gone,  and  then  she 
left  the  dishes,  and  all  the  work  standing,  and 
sat  down  to  tell  them  the  story  she  had  promised. 
In  the  most  entertaining  style  which  she  could 
command,  she  commenced  the  story  of  Joseph 
and  liis  brethren,  prefacing  it  with  the  informa- 
tion that   the  same  Book   held  many    other  such 


The  Story  of  Joseph.  99 

nice  stories,  and  if  they  should  like  this  one,  she 
would  sit  down  every  morning  and  tell  them 
one. 

But  our  little  home  missionary  encountered 
troubles  which  she  had  never  dreamed  of.  They 
might  have  listened  to  Dr.  Mason,  or  to  Miss 
Clemmer,  in  respectful  silence  ;  but  with  her  they 
felt  at  liberty  to  interrupt  at  any  time,  and  it  was 
perfectly  startling  to  Anna  to  hear  their  remarks^ 
and  to  witness  the  transformation  which  the  beau- 
tiful Oriental  incidents  suffered  upon  passing 
through  the  imaginations  of  these  young  Amer- 
ican street  -  boys.  And  Jacky,  as  being  the  elder 
brother,  seemed  to  feel  that  it  devolved  upon  him 
to  bring  all  the  foreign  features  of  the  story  down 
to  little  Jim's  comprehension.  For  instance,  the 
Eastern  system  of  feeding  flocks  and  herds  waa 
altogether  too  vast  for  little  Jim's  mind,  and  as 
Anna  explained  it  to  him,  Jacky  proceeded  to  il- 
lustrate : 

'*  I  see  how   't  was,   and  I  '11  tell  you,  Jim,  — 


100  Anna  May  lie. 

but  it  was  a  jolly  go, — 't  would  n't  go  down  now- 
a-days,  no  how  !  See  here  now,  Jim,  'twas  like 
this :  S  'posin'  now  Mr.  Clark  upon  the  hill 
kept  thousands  and  thousands  of  sheep,  and 
they  'd  eat  off  his  pastures  spic  and  span,  nipped 
every  blade  clean  into  the  ground,  and  then  he 
should  send  Hank  and  Charlie  on  with  'em  right 
onto  Hartwell's  farm,  and  they  'd  stay  there  till 
they  'd  eat  everything  there,  and  then  they  'd  be 
up  and  off  onto  old  Meyrick,  or  Green,  and  so 
on, — nobody  knows  where." 

As  well  as  she  could,  Anna  explained  to  them 
that  the  land  in  those  young  years  of  the  world 
was  not  fenced  or  owned  as  it  is  now,  and  that 
there  were  only  a  few  great  boundaries,  such  as 
rivers,  or  ranges  of  mountains,  for  the  few  tribes 
and  families,  and  that  thousands  and  thousands 
of  acres,  —  whole  counties,  and  states,  — would 
belong  to  one  family  and  it  branches.  She  soon 
found  that  her  efforts  at  explanation  helped  her 
to  a  very  vivid  realization  of  it  all  herself. 


The  Story  of  Joseph.  101 

The  boys  were  quite  taken  with  the  I'ree  life  of 
those  young  Jewish  shepherds, — a  dozen  or  so  of 
boys  away  from  home,  out  from  under  their 
father's    eyes   for    weeks    and    weeks    together. 

"Kee-e  Jim!  Wouldn't  we  hke  that? 
Would  n't  it  be  prime,  though?  " 

Anna  laughed  with  them,  but  felt  herself  called 
upon  to  inform  them  of  what  age  those  "  boys" 
of  Jacob's  probably  were  at  that  time, — boys  of 
twenty  -  eight  and  thirty  perhaps, —  like  the  men 
who  owned  the  corner  grocery,  Grey  son  and 
Hall,  or  grave  Mr.  Lee,  the  cashier  at  Mr.  Clem- 
mer's  bank.  This  idea  of  "  boy"  was  rather  over- 
whelming to  Jacky  and  Jim,  and  they  both  pre- 
served a  respectful  silence,  until  Anna  came  to 
the  description  of  letting  Joseph   down  into  the 

pit. 

They  asked  question  upon  question  concerning 
<-he  pit,  and  little  Jim  was  very  much  disgusted 
with  Anna  because  she  was  not  certain  whether 
the  pit  was  a  dry  cistern  dug   to  catch   rain  water 


102  Anna  Maylie, 

in  the  rainy  season  for  the  flocks  and  herds,  or 
whether  it  was  a  great  hole  excavated  for  the  pur- 
pose of  trapping  lions.  He  inclined  to  the  latter 
opinion,  because  he  thought  it  would  be  such 
fun  to  lay  the  limbs  of  trees  across,  and  put  the 
dead  lamb  on,  and  then  run  and  hide,  and  watch 
to  see  the  lion  steal  up  and  pounce  upon  the  lamb, 
and  then  break  through  and  fall  in.  And  the 
possibility  of  Joseph's  being  in  the  pit  at  the 
same  time  the  lion  fell  in,  seemed  to  possess  a 
strange  fascination  for  Jacky,  and  to  incline  him 
to  Jim's  view  of  the  matter. 

At  this  point,  listening  to  their  animated  dis- 
cussions and  suggestions,  Anna  felt  quite  unde- 
cided as  to  whether  her  Bible  story  was  having  a 
good  or  bad  influence  upon  her  little  listeners. 

They  dwelt  a  long  time  upon  Joseph  in  the 
pit ;  and  Jacky  lingered  so  long  to  compute  the 
probable  tallness  of  a  boy  of  seventeen,  and  he 
rendered  it  so  probable  that  Rex  Palmer,  or  even 
himself,  coiilJ  have  scrambled  up  the   sides,    and 


The  Story  of  Joseph,  103 

been  off  and  away,  that  Anna  felt  not  only 
obliged  to  darken  and  deepen  the  pit,  and  to 
state  that  Joseph  was  probably  bound  before  he 
was  put  in,  but  also  to  suppose  that  his  brothers 
remained  quite  near,  and  that  he  was  in  much 
greater  terror  of  them  than  he  was  of  the  pit, 
because  they  had  at  first  intended  to  actually  kill 
him ;  and  that  he  must  have  felt  much  safer  in 
the  pit  than  with  them. 

Finally,  to  entice  them  away,  she  drew  a  vivid 
picture  of  the  Midianites  and  their  camels ;  but 
she  could  not  succeed  in  interesting  them  until 
she  referred  them  to  the  camel  they  saw  when 
they  visited  the  caravan,  a  year  or  two  before. 
Jacky  then  remembered  the  giraffe^ perfectly  well, 
and  Jim  had  retained  a  vivid  remembrance  of  the 
elephant ;  but  the  camel  seemed  to  have  made  no 
impression  at  all  upon  their  minds ;  and  they 
remembered  so  many  other  things  so  much  bet- 
ter, and  in  such  rapid  succession, —  the  monkeys, 
and  Tom  Thumb   in   his  car,    and  the   baby  ele- 


104  Anna  May  lie, 

phant,  and  Mr.  Nellis,  —  "  the  man  without  any 
arms,  you  know,  Sis," — that  Sis  repented  very 
much  having  referred  to  the  camel  of  the  caravan 
at  all.  Especially  was  it  so  when  little  Jim  per- 
sisted to  the  last  in  loading  the  Midianites  upon 
Zebras,  and  Jacky  spoke  of  them  as  the  peddlers 
and  the  camelopards. 

But  when  it  came  upon  them  that  Joseph  was 
sold,  their  interest  w^as  renewed.  "My,  Sis! 
—  you  do  n't  mean  they  could  sell  little  Joseph  !  " 

"Yes,  they  did, — the  cruel  brothers, — the 
wicked  brothers  !  " 

"  D'  you  know  how  much  they  got  ?  " 

"  Twenty  pieces  of  silver." 

"  Kee-e  !  that  was  something  now.  Was  they 
quarters,  or  only  dimes,  d'you  know?  " 

There  was  something  so  perfectly  diabolical  in 
the  face  of  the  child  as  he  asked  this  question, 
that  Anna  felt  much  more  inclined  to  "  cuff  his 
ears"  than  to  answer  him.  Still,  as  well  as  she 
could,  she  explained  to   them  that  the   probable 


The  Story  of  Joseph.  105 

value  of  a  "piece  of  silver"  was  about  fifty 
cents. 

"  So  they  got  twenty  half-  dollar  pieces, — 
ten  dollars  ?  D'  you  hear  that,  Jim  ?  I'  d  sell 
you  for  that,  any  day  !  " 

Sadly  out  of  patience,  Anna  dismissed  her 
young  street  Arabs,  feeling  that  she  liad  done 
them  just  no  good  at  all.  She  rose  with  a  help- 
less consciousness  that  their  minds  were  quicker 
and  stronger  than  hers,  and  that  she  could  never 
teach  them.  They  were  so  very  different  from 
the  bad  boys  of  books, —  not  vicious,  not  cruel, 
—  but  so  free  and  lawless.  They  had  "real- 
ized" and  Americanized  her  simple  Bible  story 
until  she  was  actually  frightened  from  her  task. 
She  felt  that  it  would  have  been  far  more  easy  to 
deal  with  profanity,  or  theft,  or  'lying,  than  to 
have  thus  encountered  the  free  -  thinking  irrever- 
ence of  those  sharp  little  street-  corner  urchins. 


CHAPTER  Vni. 

THE   NEW   TWILIGHT. 


HAVE  spoken  somewhere  before 
of  Anna  Maylie's  loveliness  when  twi- 
light came.  She  was  almost  always,  at 
that  hour,  the  only  occupant  of  the 
houee  ;  the  great  Common,  noisy  an  hour  before 
with  base  ball,  quoits,  and  other  uproarious 
games,  was  now  deserted  and  joined  its  lonesome- 
ness  to  the  gray  desolation  of  their  own  waste 
land  with  its  broken  fences ;  for  the  old  brown 
house  stood  upon   a  disgraced  remnant  of  the 


The  New  TwilighL  107 

countless  acres  which  had  been  the  great  Maylle 
estate  in  the  days  when  her  grandfather,  old 
Colonel  Maylie,  was  one  of  the  magnates  of  the 
county. 

Anna  never  felt  that  they  could  afford  a  light 
until  her  mother  came  home,  and  the  candle  was 
needed  for  their  work ;  so  she  usually  sat  in  the 
gathering  darkness,  by  the  window,  or  in  the 
door,  or  went  down  and  stood  by  the  gate.  Thus 
it  happened,  naturally  enough,  that  twilight  had 
been  the  hour,  all  her  life,  for  growing  bitter 
over  her  lot.  Anna  Maylie  certainly  had  a 
sunny  -  looking  face.  Her  clear  eyes,  and 
bright  braided  hair,  and  her  plumpness,  and  her 
freshness,  gave  one  a  strong  impression  of  cheer- 
fulness ;  but  I  have  found  that  bitter  thoughts 
and  a  general  discontent  lurk  beneath  rosy 
cheeks  and  bright  eyes  quite  as  often  as  where  I 
used  to  associate  them  when,  I  was  a  child,  with 
a  wrinkled  brow  and  a  pale  face.  And  even  now 
thc4igh  Anna,  as  she  joyfully  believed,   had  be- 


108  Anna  Maylie, 

come  a  Christian,  and  all  her  thoughts  and  re- 
flections had  become  very  different  from  what 
they  once  were,  she  often  felt  something  which 
was  akin  to  the  old  depression.  Many  young 
Christians  would  have  devoted  that  hour  to 
prayer,  and  perhaps  it  would  have  been  better  for 
Anna  ;  but  it  was  not  quite  like  her  to  do  that ; 
for  something  like  prayer,  —  a  perpetual  thanks 
giving  that  she  had  become  a  lamb  of  the  fold,  a 
perpetual  aspiration  for  help  and  wisdom,  —  was 
constantly  arising  from  her  heart  like  perfume 
from  a  flower.  A  blind  wish  that  she  could  bet 
ter  her  lot,  and  the  hopelessness  of  that  wish,  to- 
gether with  her  daily  mortifications,  used  to  be 
the  burden  of  her  bitter  loneliness.  But  now, 
since  the  divine  fiat,  "  Let  there  be  light,"  had 
gone  forth,  Anna's  nature  was  full  of  tumult. 
All  her  latent  energies  were  moving  dimly.  The 
creative  force,  the  breath  of  Life,  which  was 
brooding  over  the  depths  of  her  soul,  was  the 
Love  of  Jesus  ;  and  the  center  of  all  her  longings 


The  Nqw  Twilight.  109 

was  to  Work  for  Jesus.  This  feeling  grew  so 
strong  that  it  really  began  to  unsettle  her  first 
joyous  happiness.  She  felt  sometimes  like  a  mis- 
sionary without  any  field,  —  nothing  but  a  home, 
and  for  that  field  she  felt  a  hopeless  incapacity  al- 
most amounting  to  a  positive  disinclination.  Her 
morning's  experience  with  Jacky  and  Jim  had 
been  so  discouraging !  If  the  boys  had  been 
positively  bad,  if  they  had  had  glaring  wicked- 
ness, she  could  have  encountered  them ;  she 
would  have  known  much  better  how  to  talk. 
But  how  to  combat  their  street  -smartness,  how 
to  fill  them  with  the  proper  awe  for  God's  word, 
was  much  more  difficult.  If  she  could  only  have 
quelled  their  roguish  pranks,  it  would  have  been 
a  OTeat  comfort  to  her  to  talk  to  them  to  -  night. 
But  they  were  both  off,  hatless,  shoeless,  jacket- 
less,  down  town,  gathered  under  some  street 
lamp  with  a  dozen  of  their  young  comrades,  play- 
ing "  toss  up"  for  an  orange  or  an  apple. 

How  well  she  could  tell  just  where  each  mem- 


110  Anna  Maylie» 

ber  of  the  family  was  at  this  hour,  and  what  they 
were  doing  !  Her  mother  was  probably  just  fin- 
ishing up  the  day's  washing  and  ironing,  or 
house  -  cleaning  at  Squire  Rowland's  and,  per- 
haps, was  just  starting  home  with  the  hard- 
earned  dollar  which  must  stretch  to  buy  the 
Saturday  nights  groceries  and  vegetables.  She 
could  see  her  coming  so  plainly, —  a  little  bent, — 
with  such  a  slow,  painful,  tired  step, —  poor, 
poor  tired  mother  !  Her  father  —  he  was  down 
at  the  corner  saloon,  which  was  not  far  from  the 
Common,  the  chief  source  of  its  profits,  spending 
his  dollar  if  he  had  one  ;  if  he  had  n't  one  he  was 
at  the  saloon  just  the  same ;  for  his  singing 
brought  customers  enough  to  Mallory  to  more 
than  pay  for  all  the  liquor  he  would  drink.  Old 
Colonel  Maylie  had  given  his  son  a  thorough  ed- 
ucation, a  fine  musical  education  especially,  as 
his  tastes  seemed  to  lean  that  way  ;  and  even  now 
it  was  as  good  as  any  concert  to  hear  him  sing, — 
60  it  was  said,  though  Anna  had  never  heard 


The  New   Twilight.  Ill 

him  ;  —  as  good  as  any  concert  to  hear  poor  Tom 
May  lie  sing  the  songs  of  twenty  years  ago  ;  and 
floating  out,  rich  and  clear,  upon  the  evening 
streets,  they  beguiled  many  a  well  -  dressed  gen- 
tleman down  the  narrow  steps  who  never  else 
would  have  entered  Mallory's  saloon. 

Head  and  heart  both  ached  with  the  troubles 
of  home,  until  she  felt  that,  for  to  -  night  at  least, 
she  could  do  no  more  than  leave  them  all  in 
God's  hands.  She  went  out,  down  to  the  gate, 
and  stood  gazing  around  at  the  small,  miserable 
houses  which  skirted  the  Common  on  all  its  four 
sides,  each  with  its  tiny  spark  of  candle  light. 

'*  Here,  too,  is  work,"  sighed  Anna.  "  Is  it 
work  for  me,  I  wonder?  Would  Miss  Clemmer 
point  me  to  this  ?  For  I  do  n't  believe  there  is  a 
Christian,  or  a  person,  who  cares  for  their  soul, 
within  reach  of  my  voice,  if  I  should  call  out 
ever  so  loudly.  I  know  there  is  nobody  in  these 
houses  who  has  been  inside  of  a  church,  or  a 
prayer  meeting,  for  four  years  !    I  do    feel  as  if  I 


112  Anna  May  lie, 

might  have  managed  to  have  at    least  mother" — 

"Hello,  Anna  !"  interrupted  a  boy  who  came 
along  whistling,  his  hands  in  his  pockets  and  a 
ragged  straw  hat  on  his  head. 

"Hello,  Eex  !  she  answered. 

He  paused  by  the  gate,  and  looked  on  to  the 
next  house,  the  one  on  the  corner.  "No  one  at 
home,  I  see.  I  wish  Lute  would  ever  stay  at 
home  and  get  supper  for  a  fellow  \ " 

"You  at  work,  somewhere,  Rex?" 

"No— why?" 

"  Nothing  ;  only  I  dare  say  Lute  do  n't  think  it 
so  necessary  to  get  supper  if  there's  nobody  at 
work.     You  ought  to  be  doing  something,  Rex  ?  " 

"Me?  Oh,  I'm  no  good." 

"  Then  you  ought  to  be   ashamed  !  " 

"Well,  what  of  it,  and  who  cares?  Supposing 
I  am  ashamed —  what  then  ?  " 

"  But  of  course  you  ai'n't  ashamed.  If  you 
was,  you  'd  do  different.  Here  you  are,  eighteen 
years  old,  Rex  Palmer,  and  if  Lute   did  n  t  take 


The  New  Twilight.  113 

in  sewing  all  the  while,  where  would  your  living 
come  from  ?  I  just  wish  I  had  your  strength  ! 
What  are  you  going  to  do,  any  way,  Hex?  You  '11 
be  twenty -one  soon.  I  heard  Johnson  say 
that,  when  he  was  twenty  -  one,  he  had  earned 
enough  to  come  to  America  and  had  a  hundred 
dollars  besides.  What  are  you  going  to  do, 
Eex?" 

"Oh,  Id'  know  !  Stay  on  in  the  old  house,  I 
suppose." 

"  'T  would  be  better  for  you,  Eex  Palmer,  if 
the  old  house  should  burn  down  !  " 

"Could  n't  get  anything  to  do  if  I  wanted  to," 
Eex  said,  sulkily.  "I've  hung  'round  the  stores 
and  the  depots,  and  there  ain't  a  job  offered  me 
once  a  month." 

"Offered  you!"  repeated  Anna,  contemptu- 
ously.    "Why  do  n't  you  ask  for  work?" 

"  Humph  !  Great  yon  know  of  such  things  !  I 
tell  you,  there  ain't  anything  in  Morristown  to 
do  for  a  fellow  like  me.     If  there  was,  I  'd  do  it, 


114  Anna  May  lie, 

if  only  to  get  rid  of  Lute's  scolding.  She  scolds 
from  morninoj  till  nio^ht." 

"  I  dare  say,  —  poor  Lute  !  There  's  herself, 
and  you,  and  Mary,  and  Min,  to  support  and 
work  for ;  and  what  do  you  do  to  help  her  ? 
Nothing,  only  to  split  a  few  sticks  of  wood  now 
and  then  !  " 

"  What  is  the  use  of  your  growing  up  in  this 
way,  Rex?  "  slie  added,  in  a  kinder  tone.  "You 
could  be  just  as  good  -  looking  a  young  business 
man  as  there  is  on  Main  Street.  I  've  often 
looked  at  you  coming  up  the  street,  and  thought 
if  you  would  only  get  rid  of  your  lounging  walk, 
and  could  wear  good  clothes,  and  have  your  hair 
barbered  like  Virgil  Dustin  and  those  Academy 
boys,  you  would  look  full  as  well  as  they." 

"  Well,  I  declare,  Anna  Maylie  !  " 

But  a  flush  of  gratification  swept  over  his  face 
and  left  its  light  in  his  great  gray  eyes,  and  its 
pride  in  the  lift  of  his  head ;  and  as  he  swept  the 
mass    of  jet  black   hair  away  from  his  forehead. 


The  New  Twilight,  115 

he  did  look  handsome.  There  was  the  material 
for  a  man  in  him. 

But  Anna  had  no  intention  of  complimenting 
him.  She  was  only  speaking  of  an  evident  fact. 
She  went  on  earnestly  :  "  If  you  really  can't  get 
anything  to  do,  Rex,  why  don't  you  go  to  school 
this  summer  ?  —  School  is  free  to  everybody  ; 
you  have  plenty  of  time." 

"That's  nonsense,  Anna  I  Isha'n't  do  that. 
What  would  folks  say?  I'd  get  laughed  at 
finely." 

"And  that  would  kill  you,  I  suppose?  " 

"Well  —  no.  I  rather  guess  if  I  can  stand 
your  talk  I  could  stand  that.  You  're  pretty 
good  at  giving  a  fellow  a  going  over,  Anna  !  " 

"  Rex,  I  am  sorry  if  I  have  hurt  your  feelings 
in  any  way ;  but  I  have  always  felt  that  you 
could  be  somebody,  and  I  wish  I  could  see  you 
at  it.     Honestly,  now,  you  must  go  to  school." 

He  looked  down  at  himself  with  a  sarcastic 
smile.     "  I'm  a  pretty  figure  to  go   to   school  I 


116  Anna  Maylie. 

Not  a  whole  garment  in  the  world,  and  Lute  is 
such  a  washer  !  " 

"But,  Eex,  1  will  mend  your  clothes,  and  I 
will  keep  them  in  order  too.  I  am  the  same  as 
my  own  mistress  here,  alone  all  day  long."  A 
flush  mounted  to  his  forehead,  and  Anna  saw  it. 
"That  is,"  she  added,  "I  will  if  you  will  turn 
round  and  teach  me  in  the  evening  what  you  learn 
in  the  day-time.  I  only  wish  I  could  go  to 
school !  " 

"  I  was  just  wondering  why  you  did  n't  prac- 
tice what  you  preach.  I'd  like  to  know  what 
wonderful  good  you  have  ever  done  !  " 

"  Oh,  dear,  I  do  n't  know,  Eex !  I  need 
somebody  to  tell  me  what  to  do  full  as  much  as 
you  do  —  hush  !  —  some  one  is  coming." 

Some  one  was  always  coming  for  that  matter, 
but  this  seemed  to  b^  some  one  in  particular, —  a 
tall  figure,  —  a  young  lady,  evidently.  Eex  saw 
her,  and  was  off. 

"  Good  evening,  Anna,"  said  a  quiet  voice. 


The  JSTew  Twilight,  117 

Anna  managed  to  say  "  good  evening,"  and 
then  stood  silent,  for  it  was  Kachel  Mansfield. 
What  could  have  brought  her  there  ?  For  never 
before  had  she  been  seen  on  Morristovvn  Common, 
—  not  walking  at  least.  She  waited,  expecting 
her  to  go  on,  but  Kachel  stopped.  "  Then  this 
is  where  you  live,  is  it,  Anna?  " 

"  Did  n't  you  know  it  before  ?  "  asked  Anna, 
bluntly. 

"Forgive  me,  Anna,"  said  Eachel,  holding  out 
her  hand ;  "  I  know  very  well  that  I  ought  to 
have  looked  you  up  before.  We  have  belonged 
to  the  same  Sunday  -  school  class  so  long." 

Anna  took  the  hand.  "  I  did  n't  mean  my 
question  in  that  way,  Eachel.  There  is  nothing  to 
forgive,  of  course  not.  Being  in  the  same  Sun- 
day-school class  is  nothing." 

"  It  ought  to  have  been  something,  Anna.  I 
have  always  known  that  our  relations  should  be 
very  different ;  but  then,  if  I  had  lived  up  to  my 
light  in  anything,  I  should  be  a  very  different 


118  Anna  Maylie, 

girl.  Now  that  I  am  here,  Anna,  won't  you  walk 
a  -  ways  with  me  ?  " 

Anna's  face  expressed  her  great  sm-prise. 
But  she  looked  back  to  the  unlighted  house, 
standing  there  with  its  dark,  open  doors  ;  it  would 
seem  so  silent  and  lonely,  so  desolate  to  her 
mother  when  she  came.  She  said,  "  You  are 
very  kind,  Rachel,  to  invite  me,  but  I  never  like 
to  go  away  in  the  evening  when  I  am  expecting 
mother." 

"  You  are  alone,  then  ?  JVIight  we  not  go  in 
and  sit  down  ?  " 

"  If  you  will,  I  should  be  glad." 

Eachel  opened  the  gate  and  followed  the  as- 
tonished Anna  in.  She  sat  down  in  a  chair  in 
the  dark,  while  Anna  lighted  a  candle.  As 
Anna  turned  to  place  the  light  upon  the  table, 
she  was  struck  with  Rachel's  look  of  utter  weari- 
ness,—  her  great  black  eyes  looked  so  sad,  and 
the  haughty  head  leaned  heavily  upon  the  white 
hand    which    flashed    its    rings     so   dazzlingiy. 


The  JSTew  Twilight,  119 

They  gave  more  light  than  the  candle,  she 
thought.  As  the  young  lady  raised  her  eyes,  she 
encountered  Anna's  expression  of  sympathy. 
"  You  look  very  tired,  Hachel,"  she  said. 

"  And  you, —  you  look  very  happy,  Anna. 
Are  you?     Miss  Clemmer  thinks  you  are." 

Anna  hesitated.  "Yes,  I  am  happy,  Eachel. 
I  think  I  am  more  happy  than  contented." 

"  I  did  not  know  as  that  could  be  with  Chris- 
tians," said  Eachel,  inquiringly.  "I  thought 
there  was  an  end  of  all  the  soul's  troubles,  at 
least.  You,  I  thought,  were  entirely  happy,  from 
Miss  Clemmer's  account."  It  was  all  said  in- 
quiringly, and  Rachel  wore  an  air  of  being 
strangely  disappointed. 

Anna  was  silent  for  some  time,  and  then  she 
said,  thoughtfully, — "  It  is  not  unhappiness  to  be 
discontented  in  the  way  I  am.  I  am  only  dis- 
contented because  I  am  so  anxious  to  be  doing- 
good,  and  I  can  not  see  how  to  do  it,  even  when 
I  can  see  right  where  the  work  lies." 


120  Anna  Maylie, 

Rachel  leaned  back  in  her  chair  with  a  sigh. 
"Yes,  she  was  right,  Anna;  you  are  happy;  as 
happy  as  God  means  you  to  be.  There  is  no 
mistake  about  you.  But  I  am  sick  and  wretched, 
Anna  !  " 

"you,Eachel?" 

Judge  Mansfield's  great  freestone  residence  on 
Maple  street,  the  tales  she  had  heard  of  the  mag- 
nificence of  their  style  of  living,  Miss  Eachel's 
rubies  and  silk  dresses,  her  pony  carriage,  her 
visits  to  New  York,  and  Washington,  and  Bos- 
ton, her  splendid  education, —  all  this  flashed 
through  Anna's  mind.  ^Not  that  she  would  bar- 
ter one  ray  of  the  light  which  shone  upon  her  own 
humble  pathway  for  them  all ;  but  how  could 
Rachel  be  unhappy,  unless,  indeed,  —  yet  she 
could  not  easily  imagine  Rachel  wretched  be- 
cause she  was  a  sinner ! 

Rachel  met  Anna's  wondering  eyes,  and  turned 
impatiently.  "Do  n't  say  'you,  Rachel ! '  to  me 
in  that  way,  Anna  !     I  came  here  because  I  am 


The  New  Tivilight,  121 

very  miserable,  tiud  I  knew  you  had  found,  — ^ 
everything  I  want.  If  you  could  only  sit  down 
and  make  it  all  plain  for  me." 

A  gush  of  tears  came  to  Anna's  eyes  then. 
"You,  too,  Rachel?  How  glad  it  will  make  Miss 
Clemmer  !  Why,  Kachel,  it  is  all  so  easy ; — it  is 
only  to  love  Jesus." 

Rachel  turned  away  with  the  same  hopeless 
look  with  which  she  had  turned  from  Miss  Clem- 
mer. "  You  were  never  wretched  then  like  me  ; 
you  can  not  help  me,  either." 

Not  Jesus  ?  No,  Rachel  would  not  have  Jesus  ! 
But  Anna  knew  no  other  remedy  for  sin.  She 
looked  with  sorrowful  astonishment  to  see  Rachel 
turn  away  from  the  all  -powerful  Name. 

She  had  never  heard  anything  quite  so  sad  as 
Rachers  tone  was  when  she  spoke  again.  "If 
you,  Anna,  who  have  so  lately  learned  the  way, 
can  not  show  it  to  me,  it  is  of  no  use." 

"  Have  you  talked  with  Dr.  Mason  ?  He  is  so 
wise ;  he  could  explain  everything  to  you  so  much 


122  Anna  Maylie. 

« 

better  than  I  can.  He  is  wise  and  strong,  while 
I  am  ignorant  and  weak. 

"  No,"  said  Eachel,  decisively,  and  at  once. 
"  I  can  not  bear  his  searching  eyes,  and  his 
searching  questions  —  not  yet.  He  would  never 
let  me  alone  again.  I  will  not  —  will  not  com- 
mit myself  so.     I  could  never  go  back,  then." 

Then  Anna  saw  it  all.  She  said, — "  Eachel,  it 
is  my  way  that  you  must  go,  after  all.  I  see 
now  what  hinders  you  ;  you  can  not  get  into  the 
way.  You  stand  at  the  entrance,  and  you  are 
busy  all  the  while  building  up  a  wall  of  Kachel 
Mansfield's  pride  and  Rachel  Mansfield's  will.  It 
seems  as  if  I  could  almost  see  them  stand,  just 
like  a  stone  wall,  right  across  your  way  to 
heaven  !  " 

At  this  moment  Anna  felt  no  awe  of  Eachel, 
and  Eachel  listened  to  her  with  almost  a  look  of 
dread  and  quailing. 

After  a  moment's  thought,  Anna  came  and  sat 
down  close  by  her  side  and   began  talking  in  a 


The  New  Twilight,  123 

low  voice.  "  You  said  I  had  never  been  wretched, 
Eachel.  I  suppose  I  have  not  been  —  like  you. 
But  there  was  a  short  time  when  I  was  even  as 
sad  as  you  ;  and  I  will  tell  you  about  it.  It  was  at 
the  first  of  Miss  Clemmer's  Friday  prayer  meet- 
ings, and  she  was  praying  for  us  all,  Rachel,  and 
she  was  so  sorrowful  over  us  ;  you  never  can  think 
what  it  was.  It  was  very  strange,  even  then  ; 
but  all  at  once  I  scarcely  heard  a  word.  I  was 
away  among  dreary  mountains,  in  dreary  lands, 
and  there,  between  two  gloomy  hills,  was  the 
cross,  and  Jesus  was  on  it,  and  oh,  what  agony  it 
was  upon  His  face  !  And  he  said,  ''It  was  for 
thee  — fo7'  thee  ! '  In  a  moment  it  was  all  gone, 
and  I  heard  Miss  Clemmer's  voice  again,  but 
plainer  still,  Rachel,  I  was  repeating  to  myself, 
'  It  was  for  thee — for  thee  I '  and  what  agony  it 
was  !  Oh,  I  could  not  help  loving  Him  !  How 
can  you  ?  " 

Rachel's    face  was  hidden,   but  she  pressed  An- 
na's hand  convulsively.     In  a  choked   voice  she 


124  Anna  Maylie, 

said,  while  her  whole  frame  shook  with  emotion, 
—"And  it  lasts?" 

''Yes,  Each  el,  it  lasts.  I,  too,  wondei'^d  if  it 
would.  But  as  soon  as  I  told  Miss  Clemmer,  as 
soon  as  I  confessed  my  Saviour,  Rachel,  then  I 
knew  that  I  loved  Jesus,  and  that  my  sins  were 
forgiven." 

"  And  you  never  feel  that  you  are  a  sinner  any 
more,  Anna?  " 

Anna  answered  not  for  a  long  time.  At  last 
she  said, — "  It  is  a  very  solemn  thing  to  say  '  I  am 
not  a  wretched  sinner  ! '  I  feel  that  I  should  be 
one,  Rachel,  if  I  were  not  kept  by  a  power  that 
comes  from  heaven." 

*'And  it  will  last,  you  think,  Anna?  Shall 
you  never  do  wrong  again  ?  " 

Anna  looked  distressed.  "  O  Rachel !  "  she  ex- 
claimed, in  a  pained  voice.  After  many  mo- 
ments' pause,  she  said,  "  I  know  that  I  have  many 
feelings  which  are  not  right,  but  it  seems  to  me, 
if  I  try  to  put  them  away,  and  if  I  do  not  willfully 


The  New  Tivilight.  125 

do  that  which  I  know  to  bo  wrong  when  I  am 
doing  it,  that  the  atonement  which  Jesus  has 
made  will  always  be  for  me,  always  availing." 

"  And  you  are  not  afraid,  Anna,  to  proclaim  to 
the  whole  world  that  you  are  a  Christian  ?  What 
if  you  should  go  back  and  lose  all  this  ?  " 

Rachel's  proud  eyes  were  bent  upon  her 
now  ;  but  Anna  Maylie's  religion  was  something 
not  to  be  torn  down  by  the  skepticism,  or  the 
analysis,  or  the  pride  of  Rachel  Mansfield.  Her 
face  shone  with  a  more  glorious  light  than  the 
light  of  intellect.  In  a  voice  that  thrilled  her 
listener,  she  answered,  "  I  know  that  I  love  Je- 
sus now!  And,  Rachel,  ^ I  believe  that  He  is 
able  to  keep  that  which  I  have  committed  unto 
Him' !  " 

For  a  moment  Rachel  forgot  her  proud, 
wretched  self.  She  gazed  at  Anna,  and  she 
gazed  around  the  room  with  its  bare  walls,  and 
/ts  bare  floor,  its  tallow  candle,  its  scanty  wood- 
en furniture,  and  then  again  a,t  the  grave,   sturdy 


126  Anna  Maylie, 

girl  in  her  calico  dress,  and  for  one  moment  she 
wished  — oh,  so  mournfully — that  she  was  Anna 
May  lie. 

She  heard  voices  at  the  gate.  It  was  Mrs. 
May  lie  and  the  children,  and  she  rose  to  go. 
The  voice  was  very  quiet  and  low  in  which  she 
said.  "I  will  follow  your  advice,  Anna.  On  my 
way  home  I  shall  call  on  Dr.  Mason.  I  will  not 
be  kept  out  of  heaven  by  Rachel  Mansfield's 
pride.  But  I  will  do  my  duty  as  you  have  shown 
it  to  me,  dear  Anna,  and  I  will  leave  God  to  deal 
with  me  according  to  His  mercy.  " 

As  Rachel  walked  slowly  home,  so  utterly 
weary,  there  came  not  up  to  her  remembrance 
any  one  of  those  sublime  utterances  of  the  mas- 
ters of  thouo^ht  and  son<j  which  all  her  life  had 
rung  in  her  memory,  becoming  a  part  of  herself, 
until  she  almost  thought  with  their  words  instead 
of  her  own.  Her  home  had  its  magnificent  li- 
brary ;  and  exquisite  editions  of  the  poets,  in  their 
rich  leather  and  gleaming  gold,    were   scattered 


The  New  Twilight,  127 

throughout  the  luxurious  apartments.  Besides, 
like  many  another  girl,  Rachel  had  a  habit  of 
cutting  out  and  copying  passages  and  poems 
which  in  some  way  had  stirred  and  thrilled  her, 
and  her  own  particular  books,  with  the  drawers 
of  her  bureau  and  writing  -  table,  were  filled 
with  slips  and  written  poems  ;  and  among  them 
were  many  beautiful  hymns  from  the  different 
church  collections.  But  not  one  of  them  all 
came  to  her  aid  to  -  night  with  its  olden  strength 
or  comfort.  How  often  Longfellow's  Psalm  of 
Life  had  quieted  her  in  her  hours  of  vague  sadness  ! 
How  often  she  had  calmed  "  life's  fitful  fever," 
and  forgotten  its  tossings  and  its  delirium,  with 
the  stately  cadence  of  Bryant's  Forest  Hymn  ! 
And  when  in  her  weariest  moments,  dissatisfied 
with  the  best  and  noblest  of  her  endeavors,  and 
"onging  for  the  rest  which  earth  can  never  give, 
she  still  refused  with  the  obstinacy  of  an  unre- 
generated  nature  to  flee  to  the  unmistakable 
teachings    and    consolations    of  the   Bible,    but 


128  Anna  Ifaylie, 

turned  instead  to  the  stately  numbers  and  solemn 
thought  of  Bryant's  Thanatopsis,  she  had  never 
failed  to  go  back  into  the  world  soothed  and 
calmed,  refreshed  and  encouraged,  even  if  she 
was  still  unsatisfied. 

How  often  in  her  best  and  saddest  moments, 
communing  with  herself,  she  had  repeated  those 
closino'  lines  : 

o 
"  So  live,  that,  when  thy  summons  comes  to  join 
The  innumerable  caravan  that  moves 
To  that  mysterious  realm,  where  each  shall  take 
His  chamber  in  the  silent  halls  of  death. 
Thou  go  not,  like  the  quarry  slave  at  night. 
Scourged  to  his  dungeon ;  but,  sustained  and  soothed 
By  an  unfaltering  trust,  approach  thy  grave 
Like  one  who  wraps  the  drapery  of  his  couch 
About  him,  and  lies  down  to  peaceful  dreams." 

But  to  -  night  everything  which  was  of  this 
world  fiiiled  her.  There  was  no  help,  no  ade- 
quate help  or  soothing,  in  the  moral  sublimity 
of  the  poets  and  the  books  she  had  leaned  up- 
on. 

Instead,  unbidden,  uncalled,  there  floated 
through   her  brain,  and  persistently  sounded  in 


The  New  Twilight.  129 

her  ear,   just  a  simple   little  hymn  which  she  had 
many   times  heard  unmoved  at  the   winter  revival 


services 


"  Come,  humble  sinner,  in  whose  bi^ast 
A  thousand  thoughts  revolve, 
Come  with  your  guilt  and  fear  oppressed, 
And  make  this  last  resolve  :— 

"  I'll  go  to  Jesus,  though  my  sin 
Like  mountains  round  me  close ; 
I  know  His  courts ;  T  '11  enter  in. 
Whatever  may  oppose. 

**  Prostrate  I  '11  lie  before  His  throne. 
And  there  my  guilt  confess ; 
I  '11  tell  Him,  I'm  a  wretch  undone 
Without  His  sovereign  grace. 

"  Perhaps  He  will  admit  my  plea, 
Perhaps  will  hear  my  prayer ; 
But,  if  I  perish,  I  will  pray, 
And  perish  only  there. 

"  I  can  but  perish  if  I  go ; 
I  am  resolved  to  try ; 
For  if  I  stay  away,  I  krow 
I  must  forever  die." 


CHAPTER  IX, 


PEACE. 


Ki^.-S^"^  OTHER,  I  wish  you  were  going 

wl     to  church   with   me  to-day,"  Anna 

^c^oV^    Maylie  said,    as     she     came    down 

'ft^  stairs,  dressed  to  go. 
Mrs.  Maylie  shook  her  head.  "That's  for  my 
betters.  You  know  I  ain't  had  a  dress  fit  to 
wear  into  a  church  for  these  ten  years."  The 
woman  said  it  with  a  sisrh.  "  It  ain't  rio-ht,  but 
I  can't  help  it,  as  I  know  of.  Maybe  it '11  be 
counted  something  to  me  that  I  kept  you  fixed  to 


Peace,  131 

go.  Bring  home  two  Sunday  -  school  books,  if 
you  can." 

"Poor  mother !"  sighed  Anna,  as  she  went 
down  to  the  gate.  "How  hard  it  is !  Poor 
mother ;  it  can  not,  can  not  be  written  down  as 
ein,  when  she  is  so  good  ; —  it  can  not  be." 

Her  father  stood  leaning  upon  the  gate  ;  for  a 
wonder  he  had  not  yet  gone  down  to  the  saloon. 
With  something  of  the  instinctive  breeding  of  the 
Maylie  men  of  other  generations,  he  stepped  aside 
and  opened  the  gate  to  let  his  girl  pass,  and  there 
was  to  be  seen  in  his  face  something  like  pride, 
that  one,  at  least,  of  his  family  was  respectable. 
He  was  almost  entirely  sober  this  morning,  and 
had  risen  in  time  for  the  family  breakfast, —  an 
occurrence  which  did  not  often  take  place.  And 
at  breakfast,  much  to  Anna's  annoyance,  Jacky 
and  Jim  had  been  full  of  talk  concerning  the 
grand  young  lady  whom  they  had  found  with  her 
tlie  evening  before,  when  they  came  home. 

"  Oh  my  !  was  n't  them  regular  sparklers  in  her 


132  Anna  Maylie. 

ears,  and  on  her  fingers?  I  wish  you  had 'em, 
Anna  I  " 

"Anna  don't  want  such  thmgs,"  said  Mrs* 
Maylie.  "  You  much  better  wish  she  had  Miss 
Mansfield's  education." 

The  father  spoke.  "  Who  you  makin'  all  this 
fuss  about?  Who  was  it,  and  where?  " 

"  It  was  Judge  Mansfield's  daughter,  Thomas," 
his  wife  answered.  "She  was  here  to  see  Anna, 
last  night." 

The  man's  face  reddened,  and  he  hastily 
glanced  about  the  room,  then  settled  down  again. 
"  Well,  what  of  it  ?  You  seem  to  make  a  great 
thing  of  it,  as  if  it  was  some  mighty  honor. 
Humph  !  I  'd  have  you  to  know  that  Jim  Mans- 
field used  to  be  the  one  honored  when  I  invited 
him  home  with  me  for  the  holidays,  when  we  's  at 
Yale.  The  old  guv  'nor  always  was  mightily 
taken  with  Jim,  and  Jim's  girl  may  well  come 
and  see  mine.  Hold  up  your  head  with  the  best 
of 'em,  Anna." 


Peace,  133 

'*  And  so  she  might,  Thomas,  if  you" — 

"  If  I  what  ? —  confound  you  !  " 

But  this  burst  was  all.  The  meal  was  finished 
in  silence  ;  and  Mrs.  May  lie  w^as  not  sorry  for 
what  she  had  said,  for  so  gentle  and  intelligent 
a  look  she  had  not  seen  upon  her  husband's  face 
for  many  a  year. 

The  same  look,  and  it  was  a  sad  one  withal, 
was  yet  upon  his  face  as  he  closed  the  gate  after 
Anna,  and  it  deepened  as  he  saw,  at  the  same 
moment  that  she  did,  Mr.  Greyson  briskly  pass- 
ing the  corner  on  his  way  to  church,  accompa- 
nied by  his  daughter,  of  about  Anna's  own  age. 
The  first  bell  had  done  ringing,  and  it  was  a 
long  walk  from  Morristown  Common  to  the  up- 
per portion  of  the  town,  but  Anna  lingered  a 
moment.  Mechanically  turning  in  a  pocket  of 
her  father's  coat,  which  was  wrong  side  out,  and 
brushing  a  straw  from  his  hat,  she  ventured  to 
Bay,— 

"  O  Father,   how   proud  I  should  feel  if   you 


134  Anna  Maylie, 

were  going  to  church  with  me  !"  and  E-achel 
IMansfield  never  bestowed  upon  her  stately  fa- 
ther a  look  more  full  of  love. 

"I  dare  say,  Sis,"  he  answered,  glancing 
around  upon  himself  expressively.  "  You  better 
hurry  now,  for  there's  the  second  bell." 

"He  didn't  sneer  at  me,  anyhow ;"  thus  Anna 
comforted  herself  as  she  hastened  away.  "  Poor 
father  !  Poor  mother  !  " 

IN^otwithstanding  the  dreary  life  she  left  behind 
her  at  home,  it  was  a  holy,  happy  Sabbath  morn^ 
ing  to  Anna.  In  spite  of  her  troubles  and  sor- 
rows, she  was  happy,  for,  although  it  was  not 
always  so,  this  morning  she  found  a  comfort  in 
her  faith  that  everything  would  yet  be  well.  How 
could  it  fail  to  eventuate  so,  after  her  ceaseless 
prayers  ?  "  Poor  father  and  mother  !  "  she  said 
again  and  again ;  "  perhaps  no  one  has  ever 
prayed  for  them  !  I  never  thought  of  it  until  last 
week,  that  there  was  no  one  in  the  whole  world 
to  pray  for  them  but  me  I     Oh,  there   is  so  much 


Peace*  135 

work  lying  all  around  me,  that  nobody  will  do 
but  me,  and  I  don't  seem  to  know  how  !  "  And 
yet  Anna  Maylie  was  happy.  There  is  no  posi- 
tive unhappiness  for  the  Christian,  except 
sin. 

The  bells  had  ceased  ringing  as  she  came  up, 
and  the  throngs  of  people  had  nearly  all  passed 
in,  but  in  the  south  door  of  the  vestibule  stood 
Judge  Mansfield  and  Kachel.  Anna  bowed,  for 
^Rachel  had  turned  especially  to  meet  her, 
Rachel  greeted  her  with    the    smile  of  last  night. 

"Wait,  Anna;  the  sexton  has  just  gone  down 
the  aisle  ;  but  will  you  not  sit  wath  me  to  -  day  ?  " 
and  she  detained  her.  Her  father  glanced  inquir- 
ingly at  her  as  he  saw  Anna  with  her,  but  she 
quietly  motioned  him  to  go  in.  As  Anna  found 
herself  following  Kachel  in  her  dainty  organdie, 
with  its  snowy  lace  mantilla,  down  the  aisle,  she 
caught  herself  wondering  what  Fanny  Ilowland, 
yes,  and  Satie  Marsh,  would  think.  And  wdieu 
Judge  Mansfield  stood  aside  for  her  to  pass  into 


136  Anna  Maylie, 

his  pew,  with  that  same  grave  stateliness  which 
she  had  so  much  admired  when  Rachel  had 
her  Boston  friends  with  her  hist  summer,  she 
wondered  afresh  what  those  girls  would  think, 
aye,  and  all  the  congregation,  for  that  matter. 
She  was  scarcely  herself  all  the  while  that  Dr. 
Mason  was  reading  the  first  hymn,  so  busy  was 
she  with  what  Fanny  would  think,  and  what 
Satie  would  think  ;  and  then  it  all  came  up  viv- 
idly again,  as  Rachel  moved  nearer,  and  held  her 
velvet  -  bound  hymn  book  for  her  to  share. 

But  the  solemn  strains  of  the  organ  quieted  and 
restored  her.  She  felt  heartily  ashamed  of  her 
vanity  and  worldliness.  While  the  choir  v^as 
singing,  she  looked  up  and  scanned  Rachel's  face. 
It  was  sad,  but  it  was  also  peacefid  ;  the  struggle 
•was  evidently  over.  And  Rachel  must  have  felt 
the  sympathetic  scrutiny,  for,  as  they  sat  down, 
she  took  and  kept  her  hand. 

Dr.  Mason  was  one  of  the  divines  who  have 
given  weight  and  reputation   to    our   Theological 


Peace,  137 

Literature,  both  at  home  and  abroad,  and  our 
cottage  girl  of  fifteen  had  only  ventured  to  lift 
the  covers  of  his  works  with  great  reverence. 
She  had  never  expected  to  read  one  of  those 
learned  pages.  But  last  Sabbath  she  had  listened 
to  his  sermon  with  a  rare  surprise, —  a  surprise 
that  she  could  understand  it, —  so  much  of  it,  at 
least.  She  did  not  know,  strong,  simple  Anna, 
that  it  was  because  to  her,  as  to  all  the  children 
of  God,  it  had  been  given  to  "  discern  spiritual 
things." 

To  -  day  she  constantly  glanced  at  Rachel  dur- 
ing the  sermon,  and  not  without  reason.  For  to- 
day it  was  not  the  usual  written  sermon.  He 
held,  indeed,  a  few  notes  in  his  hand,  but  he  only 
told  the  story  of  the  cross,  simply  and  sweetly, 
as  John  the  beloved  might  have  told  it  to  the  sin- 
sick  souls  of  Galilee  and  Judea.  Only  those 
who  have  known  Jesus  can  tell  it  so.  And  in 
every  sentence  there  was  healing  for  Rachel. 
Years  afterward  she  could  not  speak  of  it  without 


138  Anna  MayUe, 

tears,  so  strong,   and  sweet,  and   tender,   was  its 
memory. 

"It  is  God  who  has  fashioned  us,"  he  said. 
"  He  has  created  each  one  of  us  a  distinct  indi- 
vidual, and  in  his  dealings  with  the  human  fam 
ily,  He  never  f)rgets  or  confuses  the  identity  of 
one  of  His  creatures.  He  Himself  respects  the 
laws  He  has  made.  God  will  never  break  one 
of  His  own  laws.  He  deals  with  each  according 
to  the  secret,  central  law  of  his  being.  .  .  To 
love  Jesus,  and  to  trust  Jesus,  is  sufficient,  then, 
for  those  natures  which  are  simple  and  sincere  :  • 
the.  first  experience  of  such  an  one,  is  simply  love 
and  rejoicing,  and  more  frequently  the  sorrow  for 
sin  comes  afterward,  in  remembering  how  long 
the  blessed  Redeemer  of  the  world  has  been 
grieved,  and  slighted,  and  turned  away. 

"  But  there  are  other  natures  whom  it  is  need- 
ful to  render  thoroughly  sick  of  sin,  that  they 
may  hate  and  abhor  sin  with  a  fierce  antipathy 
forever  afterward.      Perhaps  it  is  necessary  that 


Peace,  139 

tliey  should  try  every  resource  of  their  own 
strength,  so  that  they  may  lean  unquestioningly 
upon  the  strength  of  the  Almighty  hereafter, — 
necessary  that  all  alternatives  and  substitutes 
be  tried,  that  afterward  there  shall  be  no  lonoiufrs 
to  go  back  to  the  beggarly  elements  of  the 
world. 

"But  remember,  when  you  have  tried  every- 
thing, and  are  dissatisfied,  when  you  are  utterly 
worn  out,  and  convinced  that  if  there  is  anything 
satisfying  to  the  soul  of  man  it  must  be  in  the  re- 
ligion of  the  Bible,  and  you  turn  from  earth  and 
self  toward  heaven, —  then  remember  there  is 
no  way  but  Jesus. 

*I  AM  THE  Door,'  He  said. 

'  I  AM  THE  Way,'  He  said. 

'  No  MAN  COMETH  UNTO  THE  FaTHER  BUT  BY 

Me,'  He  said. 
"It  is  Jesus,  the  same  Jesus,  for  the  lowly  and 
the   lofty,  for  the  simple  and   the  wise.       There 
are  eloquent  doctrinal  disputations,  there  are  fine- 


140  Anna  May  lie. 

Bpun  discussions,  and  there  are  curious  theories ; 
but  when  it  comes  to  the  question  of  salvation  for 
the  soul  of  a  sinner,  there  is  nothing  but  Jesus, 
and  there  never  will  be,  to  the  end  of  time  and 
human  probation.  '  Yerily,  verily,  I  say  unto 
you,  he  that  entereth  not  by  the  door  into  the 
sheepfold,  but  climbeth  up  some  other  way,  the 
same  is  a  thief  and  a  robber.'  All  the  self- 
willed  and  self-  sufficient  sinners  of  eighteen  cen- 
turies, who  have  sought  to  climb  up  any  other 
way,  have  fallen  back  thwarted.  Not  one  of 
them  has  ever  reached  heaven,  save  those  who 
went  back  and  turned  into  the  narrow  path  that 
leads  by  Calvary  and  the  sepulcher  of  our  risen 
Jesus." 

Heavily  Eachel's  head  bent  on  her  hand  dur- 
ing the  words  of  prayer  that  followed,  heavily 
it  still  rested  there  while  the  organ  breathed  its 
sweet,  appealing  response,  and  Anna  looked  ten- 
derly upon  her  as  she  sat  there  still,  while  the 
congregation  rose. 


Peace,  141 

Tenderly  they  sang,  and  It  seemed  to  Anna  as 

if  it  was  to  comfort  Eacliel : — 

"  "We  see  thy  band— it  leads  us,  it  supports  us ; — 
"We  hear  thy  voice— it  counsels  and  it  courts  us ; 
And  then  we  turn  away !  yet  still  thy  kindness 
Forgives  our  blindness." 

As  she  lifted  her  head,  she  turned  to  Anna,  and 
a  great  light  was  shining  in  her  eyes.  "It  is  for 
me,  Anna,"  she  said.  "lam  going  round  by 
the  cross  and  the  sepulcher  " 

She  turned  away,  the  tear-drops  falling  and 
shining  through  the  veil  she  had  drawn ;  and  as 
she  passed  her  father,  she  laid  a  trembling  hand 
upon  his  sleeve, —  "Father,  I  am  going  to  be  a 
Christian." 


CHAPTER  X. 


OUT  -  OF  -  DOOES. 

HE  FIRST  day  Anna  spent  in  the 
Clemmer  gardens  had  been  a  day  of 
steady,  hard  work ;  and  when  she  plod- 
ded alono^  home  that  nisfht  it  was  with 
tired  feet  and  aching  back.  Besides,  the  sun  and 
wind  had  chapped  her  face,  and  made  it  very  sore. 
Yet  if  there  had  been  nothing  worse  than  this 
kind  of  weariness,  she  would  not  have  minded  it 
so.  But  she  felt  thoroughly  worn  out  also  with 
trying  to  please  the  gardener,  and  she  knew  that 
not  all  her  feelings  that  day  had  been  such  as  be- 


Out  -  of-  Boors.  143 

came  Christians,  and  this,  I  suspect,  was  what 
made  her  so  disheartened  as  she  walked  home. 

Johnson  was  an  Englishman,  and  very  partic- 
ular, and  had  no  patience  with  slip  -  shod  Ameri- 
can ways.  In  fact,  he  had  long  ago  settled,  in 
his  own  mind,  upon  the  best  way  of  doing  eveiy- 
thing ;  and  that  his  ideas  concerning  gardening 
were  of  the  very  best,  there  is  no  denying.  Bat 
his  thoroughness  and  particular  ways  were  a 
great  trial  to  those  who  assisted  him. 

Taking  everything  together,  Anna's  first  day 
out  -  of  -  doors  was  quite  unlike  her  cherished 
dream  of  being  employed  by  Miss  Clemmer ;  for, 
to  add  to  various  other  disappointments,  she  had 
seen  her  teacher  only  once,  and  then  for  just  a 
brief  moment  before  she  came  home.  INIiss 
Clemmer  was  quite  ill,  and  was  lying  upon  the 
vofa  in  her  own  room. 

She  had  thought  that  it  could  not  help  being 
delightful  to  cut  roses  all  day  in  those  beautiful 
grounds;  for  from  Miss  Clemmer's  window  she 


144  Jinna  May  lie. 

had  never  grown  weary  of  looking  down  upon  the 
rosery  and  the  stretching  lawn.  It  had  never 
occurred  to  her  that  she  should  need  instructions 
about  such  a  simple  thing  as  cutting  roses ;  much 
less  that  she  should  need  to  be  watched  as  she 
watched  Jacky  when  she  set  him  a  task.  Yery 
thankful  that  God  had  bestowed  beauty  and  lux- 
ury somewhere  in  the  world  if  not  around  her  own 
home,  she  had  taken  her  shears  in  the  morning, 
and,  setting  her  basket  down  under  a  great  cin- 
namon rose,  had  blithely  begun  her  labors ;  and 
she  was  not  aware  that  the  gardener  stood  near 
her  until  she  was  startled  by  his  sharp,  quick 
voice  at  her  elbow.  "  'Old  hon  'ere.  Miss  Hanna  I 
You  've  clij)ped  hoff  four  hold  ones  !  No  brown- 
ish roses  goes  hinto  rose  -  water  hat  this  'ouse ; 
leave  hall  them  !  '* 

She  soon  found  that  it  was  not  such  swift, 
careless  work,  after  all.  Two  looks  of  her  inex- 
perienced eye  must  go  to  each  rose.  "  'Old  hon 
now,  Miss  Hanna  I     That  rose  honly  blowed  this 


Out  -  of'  Doors,  145 

»ere  blessed  morning ;  hi  would  n't  let  hanybody 
but  Miss  Clemmer  'erself  clip  that  till  night,  no 
'ow ;  folks'  heyes  on  the  street  'ave  'ad  no  chanco 
hat  hit  hat  hall." 

These  peremptory  tones  never  failed  to  "  make 
her  jump"  as  she  expressed  it,  and  she  became  so 
nervous  that  she  felt  almost  afraid  of  the  partic- 
ular, little,  old  man.  But  she  knew  that  he  was 
in  the  right ;  and  she  worked  on  as  industriously 
and  cheerfully  as  possible.  She  soon  learned  to 
distinguish  the  fullness  and  depth  of  color,  and 
the  crisp  texture  of  petal  which  marked  the  fresh- 
ly -  blown  rose  ;  and  when  he  did  not  feel  obliged 
to  have  his  attention  occupied  in  watching  her, 
she  found  that  he  could  be  quite  entertaining  ;  and 
she  regretted  that  in  her  thoughts  she  had  called 
him  "  a  cross  old  thing."  She  was  very  much 
interested  in  his  account  of  a  rose  -  tree  in  Eng- 
land which  was  many  hundred  years  old  and  grew 
by  a  very  ancient  church,  — he  himself  had  seen 
it  in  blossom  more  than  once,  and  if  he  was  not 


146  Anna  Maylie^ 

so  old  and  infirm,  lie  woaldn't  mind  crossing  the 
ocean  again  to  get  a  slip  of  it  for  Miss  Clemmer. 
Just  as  he  said  that,  she  was  startled  by  another 
sharp  exclamation. 

"  Miss  Hanua  !  Now  if  hi  'ave  n't  a  mind  to 
toss  your  shears  hover  the  fence !  Three  buds 
of  this  'ere  Doctor  Mark  cut  hoflp,  and  it  a  'aving 
honlv  heij^ht  roses  hanyow  !  and  it  a  -  beinsf  Miss 
Gertie's  favorite,  and  hi  a  -  saving  these  'ere  last 
buds  for  'er  bouquet  to  -  night  ?  " 

Anna  laid  down  lier  shears  in  dismay.  "  O 
Johnson,  I'm  so  sorry!  But  the  rose  was  so 
large,  and  so  many  green  leaves,  —  I  never  saw 
the  buds  at  all.  Could  n't  they  be  put  in  water 
and  kept  some  way  ?  "  But  there  were  no  stems  ; 
the  mischief  w^as  irremediable,  whatever  it  was, 
and  Anna  felt  she  was  in  dis2:race. 

"AVell,  go  hon!"  he  said,  ^'There's  a  *ard 
day's  work  yet  before  hus  !  " 

After  that,  she  worked  witli  such  nervous  care 
that  the  day  was  a  great  trial  instead  of  a  pleas- 


Out -of -Doors.  147 

ui'e.  But  her  industry  was  such  that  Johnson 
soon  forgave  her.  By  noon  her  arms  ached 
with  reaching  over  and  reaching  up ;  and  by 
night  her  hands,  hard  and  rough  as  they  were 
when  she  commenced,  were  blistered  by  the 
shears. 

Her  only  satisfaction  came  when  the  day's 
work  was  over,  and  the  housekeeper  gave  her 
her  half-dollar, — five,  shining,  silver,  ten -cent 
pieces  ;  and  Johnson  told  her  very  pleasantly  tliat 
she  was  to  come  again  to  -  morrow  and  help  trim 
up  the  rose  bushes  for  Miss  Gertie's  picnic  on 
Wednesday  ;  and  said  to  the  housekeeper  that  she 
had  cut  fully  one  -  half  the  roses.  Of  course  all 
her  trials  had  been  small ;  perhaps  her  sins  of  ill  - 
temper  would  be  accounted  small  sins ;  but  as 
she  walked  home  she  felt  sorely  grieved,  and  she 
prayed  fervently  for  a  religion  that  would  bear 
contact  with  the  every  -  day  world  and  every  - 
day  life. 

There  was  no   one  there  when   she  reached 


148  Anna  Maylie, 

home,  and  she  threw  herself  down  in  the  door, 
and  sat  there  a  long  time  fanning  herself  with 
her  sun  -  bonnet. 

"  The  whole  would  seem  so  very  little ;  yet 
INliss  Clemmer  said  the  Lord  only  required  ^\q 
cents  out  of  fifty,  even  in  the  strictest  Bible  sense. 
And  I  know,  when  mother  works  so  hard,  that 
even  forty  -  five  cents  will  help  her ;  it  will  buy 
something.  But,  oh  dear !  I  want  to  pay  my 
share  toward  Dr.  Mason's  salary,  and  I  want  to 
pay  toward  the  Home  Missions,  and  the  Foreign 
Missions,  and  the  Tract  Society,  and  the  Bible 
Society ;  but  what  can  I  do  with  only  a  few  five  - 
cent  pieces  ?  I  hope  I  am  a  larger  Christian  than 
that !  And  how  I  should  like  to  earn  mother  a 
dress,  so  she  could  go  to  church !  But  she 
would  n't  be  ready  then.  No  ;  she  has  no  gloves, 
no  gaiters,  no  shawl,  no  bonnet;  oh,  my  poor, 
poor  mother  !  " 

Anna  just  buried  her  face  in  her  sun  -  bonnet 
and  sobbed.     Never  before  had  she  realized  to 


Out- of -Doors.  149 

the  full  her  mother's  destitution  ;  never  before,  all 
her  years  of  patient,  wordless  self-denial. 
"  There  shall  be  better  things  for  mother  !  "  she 
cried,  vehemently.  "  And  I  believe  that  God 
would  never,  never  put  so  many  things  right  in 
my  path,  and  show  me  that  they  needed  doing, 
if  He  did  n't  intend  to  help  me  do  them  —  so  ! 
There's  Jacky  and  Jim  now ;  I  think  if  they 
could  only  be  dressed  up  I  could  get  them  to 
Sunday  -  school,  and  then  they  would  gradually 
grow  different.     Oh,  it  is  so  hard  !  " 

She  had  never  felt  poverty  so  before,  and  just 
as  vividly  she  felt  a  sense  of  ignorance  and  in- 
capacity ;  this  was  constantly  recurring  to  her 
now.  Despite  her  emphatic  declaration  of  trust 
in  God's  dealings  just  a  few  moments  before,  her 
faith  again  deserted  her,  and  her  gloom  grew  al- 
most as  deep  as  the  olden  bitterness. 

She  was  roused  by  a  step  on  the  grass.  It 
was  Rex  Palmer. 

"Well,  Anna?" 


150  Anna  Maylie, 

''Well,  Eex?" 

"  I  have  brought  over  my  linen  coat  for  you  to 
mend,  and  to  give  you  your  lesson." 

Anna  sprang  to  her  feet.  "  You  do  n't  mean 
that  you  have  been  to  school  ?  " 

"Yes  'm.  You  did  n't  suppose  that  I  was  go- 
ing to  take  your  shaming  ?  " 

She  lit  the  candle,  and  took  down  her  needle  - 
cushion,  but  stopped  and  looked  up  again  so 
brioht,  so  orlad. 

"OEex,  did  you  go?" 
.   "Well,  you  do  n't  need  to  be  so  rejoiced  about 
it  if  I  did.     It  is  n't  at   all    likely    that  I  shall  go 
again  !  " 

She  glanced  at  him  in  surprise.  His  face  was 
a  little  overcast,  but  he  sat  down  with  a  laugh. 
"  However,  Anna,  I  '11  share  my  one  day's 
schooling  with  you.  Perhaps  you  've  noticed, 
though,  that  I 've  brought  over  no  books;  any- 
way,' the  teachers  noticed  it  when  I  got  there. 
I  never  once  thought  about  the  books ;  did  you  ? 


Out  -  of-  Doors,  151 

Well,  let  me  tell  you  what  I  learned.  First, 
that  books  to  the  auiouRt  of  five  dollars  are  req- 
uisite. Second,  that  a  boy  of  eighteen  in  hia 
ehirt  sleeves,  and  with  bare  feet,  is  not  consid- 
ered respectable.  Thu'd,  that  I  will  have  to 
study  about  two  years  to  understand  what  boys 
of  thirteen  and  fourteen  know.  I  also  learned 
that  you  can  cipher  on  the  black  -  board  with  let- 
ters as  well  as  you  can  with  figures,  and  that 
Miss  Parsons  up  there  knows  enough  a  sight 
more  about  the  moon  and  a  star  she  calls  Mer- 
cury, than  I  do  about  this  earth  I  've  lived  on 
eighteen  years.  Also,  that  it  is  n't  probable  that 
I  shall  ever  again  be  inoide  of  a  school  -  house." 
"  0  Rex  !  Why  ?  Do  n't  you  like  it  ?  " 
"Don't  I  like  it?  Anna  May  lie,  I'd  cut  off 
my  right  arm  if  I  could  spend  two  years  there  I 
Why  do  n't  I  go,  then?  That's  just  like  a  girl ! 
I  believe  girls  can't  reason !  How,  if  I  live 
twenty  years,  am  I  to  get  hold  of  five  dollars' 
worth   of  books  ?     I'd  be   willing  to  go  and  sit 


152  Anna  Maylie, 

without  books ;  I  could  learn  so  much  just  hear 
ing  tlie  classes  recite ;  but  they  would  n't  hear  to 
having  things  done  out  of  the  regular  line,  hke 
that,  I  suppose.  It's  no  go.  But  I  want  you  to 
please  remember,  Miss  Anna,  that  I  did  n't  take 
your  '  shaming'  for  nothing  !  " 

"No,  Eex,  you  didn't.  And  I  believe  the 
Lord  will  send  you  books." 

Rex  sneered.  "  Shall  I  look  for  them  through 
the  Post  Office  !  " 

Anna  laid  down  her  work,  looking  so  shocked. 
"  Eexford  Palmer  !     You  wicked  boy  !  " 

"  Oh,  now,  Anna,  do  n't  act  lilce  that  I  I  was 
too  bad  ;  but  I  never  did  have  any  faith  in  Provi- 
dence." 

She  curled  her  lip.  "I  am  not  speaking  of 
your  kind  of  Providence,  Eex.  I  meant  that,  if 
you  was  in  earnest  to  go  to  school,  you  could  n't 
help  finding  a  way  to  earn  five  dollars.  You  are 
a  great  sturdy  fellow ;  it  would  be  ridiculous  to 
give  you  your  books  I  " 


Out  -  of'  Doors.  153 

"Well,  Miss,  if  that's  your  style,  and  3^ou've 
got  my  coat  done,  and  you  think  what  I  've 
learned  at  school  to  -  day  has  paid  you  for  your 
trouble,  I'll  take  it  and  be  off." 

"  If  you  '11  leave  it,  I  '11  iron  it  out,  Rex.  I  '11 
have  time  while  we  're  getting  breakfast,  and 
that  '11  be  bright  and  early,  for  I  'm  going  out  to 
work  again  to  -  morrow.  I  earned  fifty  cents  to- 
day, Mr.  Rex  Palmer  !  " 

But  Rex  was  out  of  the  gate  and  half  way 
down  the  walk ;  whether  angry  or  not,  Anna 
couldn't  tell.  She  sat  there  a  long  time  musing. 
And  when  she  rose,  as  she  heard  her  mother  open 
the  gate,  she  said  with  a  smile, —  "  Well,  I  do  n't 
know  that  I  am  sorry  for  what  I  said.  I  could  n't 
very  well  help  it.  And  maybe  he  won't  take  my 
'  shaming'  this  time,  either  I " 


CHAPTER  XI. 


PREMONITIONS. 

HEN  Anna   came   to     the  little 

prayer  meeting,  Friday  evening,  she 
was  not  surprised  to  find  Rachel 
Mansfield  already  there.  But  she 
was  both  surprised  and  grieved  to  see  Miss  Clem- 
mer  in  her  dressing  gown,  leaning  wearily  back 
among  the  sofa  pillows.  All  Miss  Clemmer's 
habits  were  so  dainty  and  precise,  that  she  felt  in^ 
stinctively  that  this  implied  more  serious  illness 
than  she  liked  to  think. 


Premonitions,  155 

Rachel  rose  to  meet  her.  "I  thought  I  should 
see  yoa  to-night,"  Anna  said,  as  she  returned 
the  warm  pressure  of  her  hand. 

"  Yes,  and  I  am  clothed  and  in  my  right  mind  ; 
and  the  miracle  is  greater  to  me  than  its  counter- 
part in  the  country  of  the  Gadarenes." 

Miss  Clemmer  drew  them  down  on  either  side 
of  her.  "It  is  only  three  weeks,  and  here  are  two 
of  my  girls  !  But  I  shall  not  have  the  rest  so 
soon  ;  it  is  to  be  a  different  task  to  reach  them,  I 
fear." 

But  Eachel,  like  all  the  children  born  into 
the  kingdom,  was  born  a  missionary ;  she  was 
already  at  work.  "  I  called  for  Fanny  to  -  night, 
but  she  had  a  houseful  of  company,  or  I  really 
think  she  would  have  come  with  me.  1  never 
saw  her  appear  quite  as  she  did  this  evening. 
Oh,  how  you  cough.  Miss  Clemmer;  let  me  beg 
you  to  lie  down  again.  " 

"No,  I  hardly  think  I  need  to.  I  am  sorry 
that  I  am  no  better  to-ni^ht.     I  have  been  sav- 


156  Anna  Maylie, 

ing  my  strength  all  day,  that  I  might  be  stronger 
this  evening.  I  will  ask  you  to  sit  down  at  the 
melodeon,  Rachel,  while  Anna  sings." 

Yery  sweetly,  as  she  lay  with  closed  eyes,  the 
voices  of  her  girls  floated  through  the  chamber. 
It  was  the  tender,  time  -  worrf  strain,  "  Sweet 
Hour  of  Prayer  ;"  but  Miss  Clemmer  felt  that  she 
had  never  heard  it  sung  so  tenderly  before. 
Something  in  the  peace  and  depth  of  their  voices 
took  her  back  to  the  time  when  she  first  entered 
the  service  of  her  Master,  and  she  felt  again  the 
early  glow,  the  entire  devotion,  and  the  surpass- 
ing peace.  How  long  she  looked  upon  them 
that  night,  marking  the  dignity  which  religion 
was  developing  in  simple  Anna  Maylie,  and 
dwelling  upon  Rachel's  gentleness  I  She  prayed 
that  she  might  never  see  that  serene  face  proud 
and  sparkling  with  worldliness  again. 

The  slight  flush  which  had  been  upon  Miss 
Clemmer's  cheek,  while  speaking,  had  faded, 
leaving  her  very  pale.   So  delicate,  so  spirituelle 


Premonitions,  157 

she  looked,  in  the  soft  light  of  the  room,  that,  as 
Anna  turned  from  the  melodeon  and  looked  upon 
the  dear,  dear  face,  all  her  love  and  anxiety  for 
her  teacher  came  surging  up.  She  knelt  by  the 
sofa  and  buried  her  face  in  the  folds  of  Miss 
Clemmer's  dress.  Sob  after  sob  came  from  her 
full  heart.  "  Oh,  they  never  told  me  how  sick 
you  were ;  they  thought  it  was  nothing  to  me  ! 
And  now  you  are  going  to  die  I  I  know  it  so 
well." 

For  a  moment  Miss  Clemmer  was  startled ; 
but  she  only  laid  her  fair,  white  hand  upon 
Anna's  bright  braids,  and  said,  gently,  "  My  poor 
little  impulsive  girl !  "  Then,  in  a  lighter  tone, 
"  Why,  Anna,  how  nervous  you  are  to  -  night ! 
I  never  thought  anything  like  this  of  you.  But 
you  are  quite  mistaken,  dear.  I  know  I  have 
not  been  well  this  week  ;  I  think  I  took  a  slight 
cold  one  evening  at  the  teachers'  meeting ;  but, 
really,  it  is  nothing  serious.  I  expect,  my  dear 
Anna,  to  live  to  see  you  a  useful  woman,   and  all 


158  Anna  Maylie, 

my  lambs  safe  in  the  fold.  I  shall  certainly  be 
very  careful  of  my  health,  if  I  am  so  dear  to  my 
girls  ;"  and  she  seemed  quite  herself  again,  as  she 
raised  Anna,  and  then  rose  and  knelt  with  them. 
But  resting  there,  listening  to  Eachel's  low, 
earnest  tones,  the  cheerful  courage  with  which 
she  had  spoken  to  Anna  seemed  to  leave  her. 
A  strange,  painless  feeling  of  weakness  came  over 
her ;  her  strength  seemed  ebbing,  ebbing  away. 
Her  head  sank  wearily  lower  and  rested  on  her 
hand.  Was  it  poor  Anna's  impulsive  words  or 
w^hat  was  it,  that,  for  the  first  time,  she  was 
touched  with  a  feeHnsf  that  her  work  mio^ht  be 
nearly  done  ?  Heart  and  brain  and  hand  alike 
grew  nerveless  in  that  hour's  strange  weakness. 
And  then  the  thought  came  to  her,  that  she  might 
never  live  to  accomplish  the  labors  she  had 
planned  and  begun ;  that  to  the  younger,  earnest 
spirits  at  her  side,  it  might  be  left  to  finish  the 
work  she  had  loved  so  well.  There  was  a  touch 
of  sadness  which  came  with  this  first  conscious- 


Premonitio7is.  159 

ness  that,  for  her,  life  might  be  passing  away, 
for  life  was  dear ;  life  was  beautiful  still.  Hers 
had  been  full  of  grand  endeavor,  fragile  and  del- 
icate though  she  was,  and  she  had  loved  her  work 
in  the  Master's  field  here  below.  But  if  the 
sadness  overcame  her  for  a  season,  she  doubted 
not,  if  the  time  of  her  departure  was,  indeed, 
drawing  near,  that  she  should  be  enabled  to  say 
like  Paul, —  *' I  have  fought  the  good  fight,  I 
have  finished  my  course,  I  have  kept  the  faith ; 
henceforth  there  is  laid  up  for  me  a  crown  of 
righteousness,  which  the  Lord,  the  rigb^teous 
Judge,  shall  give  me  in  that  day." 

And  as  they  rose,  her  girls  saw  the  transfig- 
mnng  light  of  that  hour  of  premonition  and  faith 
still  upon  her  face  ;  and  as  they  looked  upon  her, 
a  throb  of  poor  little  Anna's  pain  shook  Rachel's 
heart. 

As  they  were  about  to  separate,  and  sat  say- 
ing the  last  few  words,  so  dear  to  them  all.  Miss 
Clemmer   turned  to   Anna.      "And   you,    who 


160  Anna    Maylie, 

seem  to  find  most  happiness  in  doing,  what  have 
you  done  since  we  last  talked  together?  " 

"  Nothing,  nothing.  Miss  Clemmer.  I  have 
only  spent  my  time  in  wanting   to  work." 

There  was  a  moment's  pause,  in  which  Kachel 
softly  said, — "  Then  you  have  quite  forgotten  all 
the  good  you  did  me,  Anna?"  Anna  gazed 
upon  her  a  moment  with  thoughtful  eyes,  as  Miss 
Clemmer  spoke. 

"  W^ork  upon  which  we  set  no  value,  Anna,  is 
often  the  richest  in  results.  You  may  have  accom- 
plished much  more  than  you  think.  The  result 
of  our  deeds  is  often  invisible  for  a  long  time ; 
just  as  it  is  in  the  out -door  world,  you  love  so 
well,  Anna ;  our  influence  seems  to  melt  away, 
as  moisture  sinks  through  the  earth  ;  but  by  and 
by  it  wears  itself  a  little  channel,  and  goes  steal- 
ing along,  until,  suddenly,  a  crystal  spring  bub- 
bles up  into  sight,  and  furnishes  refreshment  for 
many." 

Anna  looked  cheered,  but  she  said, — "  I  do  n't 


Premonitions,  161 

know ;  I  sometimes  think  that  mj  efforts  make 
things  worse.  Now  I  talked  to  mother  about 
going  to  church,  and  I  only  made  her  uuliappy, 
for  she  can't  go ;  she  can  only  dress  me  to  go. 
And  then  I  did  try  Jack  and  Jim,  Miss  Clemmer, 
and  I  will  again,  but  you  can  't  think  how  differ- 
ent it  is  from  anything  you  have  read  about  a  sis- 
ter's teaching.  They  are  so  daring  that  they 
frighten  me.  They  have  no  reverence  at  all ; 
they  make  my  Bible  stories  all  over.  They  think 
faster  than  I  possibly  can,  and  they  do  n't  think 
Bible  at  all ;  they  think  just  as  they  talk  in  the 
street.  They  are  not  afraid  of  me,  or  my  stories 
either ;  and,  now  it  may  not  be  right,  but  I  can 
not  bear  to  talk  to  them  of  Jesus  until  I  can 
teach  them  respect  for  the  other  parts  of  the  Bible. 
Then  I  tried  to  eucourage  one  of  the  boys  on  our 
street,  Eex  Palmer,  —  he  is  eighteen  years  old, — 
to  go  to  school,  and  he  did  go  one  day,  but  he 
hasn't  any  books,  and  what  I  said  about  it  only 
had  a  bad  effect,   for  he  is  angry  now,  and   I  'm 


162  Anna  Maylie, 

afraid  he  won't  go  to  school  after  all.  The  only 
real  good  that  1  know  of  is,  that  I  have  worked 
four  days  for  jou,  IMiss  Clemmer,  and  so  I  have 
twenty  cents  of  my  own ;  and  now  wo  n't  you 
take  it,  and  give  it  somewhere,  where  it  is 
needed  ?  There  are  so  many  things  that  I  want  to 
do  with  it,  that  I  can  't  do  anything." 

Mi^s  Clemmer  and  Rachel  looked  at  Anna  in 
silence, —  Rachellearning  a  lesson  of  daily,  hour- 
ly thoroughness  and  self-sacrifice.  "Our  little 
missionary  girl  seems  in  sad  need  of  an  auxiliary,'* 
she  said  in  a  low  tone  to  Miss  Clemmer.  "  I 
wonder  if  I  could  not  find  work  to  do  in  her 
field." 

The  teacher  felt  that  she  had  a  right  to 
strengthen  Anna's  faith.  "  When  we  sow  seed, 
Anna,  we  allow  it  time  to  germinate,  do  we  not? 
Do  you  not  remember?  'First  the  blade,  and 
then  the  ear,  and  after  that  the  full  corn  in  the 
ear.'  I  have  always  believed  that  there  has  been 
no  vv'ord  spoken  for  Jesus  that  was  in  vain.     But 


Premonitions,  163 

that,  you  know,  is  quite  different  from  saying 
that  we  shall  be  permitted,  in  this  life,  to  see  the 
fruit  of  all  our  labors.  Go  on,  Anna,  as  you 
have  begun,  and  let  no  opportunity  of  sowing 
the  good  seed  pass.  And  when  you  can  not 
work,  pray  ;  that  is  sometimes  the  only  way  that 
unfinished  labor  can  be  completed." 

Anna  listened  earnestly  to  this,  and  then,  re- 
ceiving permission  to  come  around  after  Sabbath  - 
school,  if  her  teacher  was  not  in  her  place,  she 
bade  them  o-ood  ni^^ht. 

But  Eachel  lingered  still,  and  as  she  sat  down 
by  Miss  Clemmer,  the  latter  spoke,  as  if  resuming 
a  former  conversation.  "Ihave  no  fear  for  the 
thoroughness  of  this  change  in  you,  Rachel,  but 
you  must  never  go  back.  I  can  not  think  that 
the  hour  of  wishing  to  do  so  will  ever  come  to 
you  ;  but  I  trust  you  will  place  such  barriers  be- 
tween yourself  and  the  world  that  you  can  not 
get  back.  Make  your  position  so  assured  before 
the  world,  take  steps  so  strong  and  decided,  show 


164  Anna  Maylie. 

so  plainly  and  unmistakably  which  side  you  are 
on,  that  you  can  not  go  back.  I  want  you  to  be 
such  a  brave  Christian,  dear  Eachel,  glad  to  con- 
fess 3^our  Saviour  in  every  place  and  situation. 
And  never  be  afraid  to  name  the  name  of  Jesus. 
Accustom  yourself  to  saying  it  often.  It  does  the 
world  good  to  hear  the  blessed  name  spoken 
frankly  and  reverently.  I  am  sorry  that  it  does 
not  oftener  hear  it  from  the  lips  of  His  followers 
of  the  present  day.  'I  love  Jesus,'  carries  pow- 
er with  it.  We  listen  quietly,  and  wholly  un- 
moved to  hear  one  say,  ^  I  have  made  a  profession 
of  religion,  so  many  years,'  but  the  child  of  God 
who  says,  instead,  'Hove  Jesus,' thrills  our  souls. 
And,  Rachel,  I  was  glad  to  see  you  studying  our 
little  Anna.  Take  a  lesson  from  her,  work  for 
Jesus,  and  so  keep  your  own  heart  warmed  and 
lighted.  Anna  is  a  practical  Christian.  She  is 
at  work  daily  and  hourly.  You  can  see  from 
her  own  simple,  unconscious  account,  that  every 
place  she  is  in,  every  person  she  influences,  bears 


Premonitions,  165 

testimony  to  her  zeal  in  the  Master's  cause.  I 
wish  that  a  measure  of  her  spirit  might  be  laid  on 
you,  Rachel,  who  have  talents,  w^ealth,  and  wide 
opportanities.  Remember  this  :  If  you  wish  to 
know  the  length  and  breadth,  and  hight  and 
depth  of  God's  love,  Rachel,  devote  your  life  to 
His  work." 

Rachel  heard  her  through  with  humble  atten- 
tion. "  I  will,"  she  said,  as  she  rose  to  go. 
"  My  religion  is  not  happiness,  like  Anna's ; 
it  is  obedience, but — thank  God — it  is  also  peace." 


.  ^-^ . 


-^--^  w  ^-^  ' 


CHAPTER  XII. 

EEX. 

TEUST  that  none  of  my  readers 
will  doubt  that  religion  has  power  to 
satisfy  the  hunger  and  thirst  of  the  soul, 
and  to  fill  its  void,  because  Anna  May- 
lie,  who  was  so  joyous  at  first  in  her  love  for  Je- 
sus, has  not  seemed  happier  in  her  every  -  day 
life.  But  I  think  those  of  you  who  truly  love 
God  are  not  at  a  loss  to  understand  Anna. 
Do  you  not  call  to  mind  what  her  Saviour  said 
when  He  was  on  earth?  —  "My  Father  woiketh 
hitherto,  and   I  work."     And  the  spirit   of  the 


Rex,  167 

Father  and  the  Son  has  rested  upon  every  child 
of  His  who  has  since  been  born  into  the  kins:- 
dom.  An  earnest  desire  to  work  for  the  Master 
is  the  very  life  -  breath  of  all  who  are  truly  His. 
Not  the  twelve  alone  did  he  send  out  into  the 
world  with  the  divine  commission  to  work ;  the 
same  burning  zeal  has  been  felt  by  all  his  true 
disciples  through  the  centuries.  It  was  because 
she,  too,  had  heard  the  voice  of  the  Lord  of  the 
vineyard,  and  did  not  know  where  to  go  to  work, 
and  how,  that  Anna  Maylie  was  discontented. 

I  think  I  have  erred  in  saying  she  did  not  know 
where  her  work  was  ;  for  her  deepest  longing  was 
very  distinct  indeed.  She  simply  did  not  know 
how  to  raise  her  own  dear  ones,  and  the  ne- 
glected families  of  the  Common,  up  into  the 
light. 

How  many  a  character  which  has  shed  its  light 
all  over  the  v/orld  lay  inert  and  undeveloped  until 
the  love  of  Jesus  was  breathed  upon  it !  I  be- 
lieve that  Anna  Maylie  too  would  have  lived  and 


168  Anna  Maylie* 

died  an  unknown,  common  -  place  woman  if  this 
life  -  giving  love  of  Jesus  had  not  reached  her. 
It  was  this  which  was  rapidly  developing  her  en- 
ergies and  self-  reliance ;  this  which  urged  her  to 
disturb  and  rouse  others  from  the  lethargy  of  a 
useless  life. 

The  improvement  in  Anna's  character  had  be- 
come visible  to  every  one  by  this  time.  She  had 
also  gTeatly  improved  in  personal  appearance,  for 
her  religion  had  really  refined  her ;  and  you  never 
saw  it  fail  to  refine  its  possessor,  did  you  ?  And 
our  Anna  came  of  good  stock,  —  not  rough,  not 
course,  only  rustic  and  uncultivated. 

The  desolateness  of  her  home  had  never  seemed 
60  dreary,  the  deprivations  and  the  uncomplain- 
ing self-denial  of  her  mother  so  pitiful,  the  degra- 
dation of  her  father  so  dreadful  as  it  all  seemed  to 
her  now,  day  after  day,  with  that  revealing  light 
from  heaven  falling  upon  it  all.  Especially  did 
the  wild  state  in  which  her  little  brothers  were 
growing  up  weigh  upon  her.     That  appeared  to 


Rex,  169 

her  a  sin  which  a  sister  who  was  a  Sunday- 
school  scholar, —  to  say  nothing  of  being  a  Chris- 
tian,—  might  well  be  called  upon  to  answer  for. 
She  prayed  earnestly  to  God  to  fit  her  for  this 
work  at  home,  and  then  went  on  brooding  drea- 
rily enough  over  it  at  night. 

But  every  morning  she  woke  with  a  refreshed 
faith.  Surely  as  came  the  morning  light, 
came  also  the  feeling  that,  sometime,  some- 
way, God  would  enable  her  to  accomplish  this 
work.  She  now  never  once  commenced  a  new 
day  without  a  firm  resolution  to  honor  Jesus  all 
day  long  in  everything  she  did.  Although  her 
occupations  were  all  so  humble,  she  felt  that  the 
admonition  of  St.  Paul :  "  And  whatsoever  ye  do, 
do  it  heartily,  as  to  the  Lord,"  applied  just  as 
closely  to  her,  with  her  homely  duties,  as  it  did 
to  the  Christians  who  stood  in  the  high  places  of 
of  the  world,  like  Dr.  Mason  or  Miss  Clem^ 
mer. 

And  so,  as  there  was  no  great  duty   in  sight, 


170  A7ina  Maylie, 

spent  her  great  resolve  and  her  great  faithfulness 
in  being  thorough  at  her  simple,  every  -  day  work. 
She  labored  hard,  when  she  was  at  home,  all  day 
long  at  the  housework  in  the  old  brown  house. 
And  her  religion  did  make  a  difference  there. 
She  had  always  been  what  is  called  "  neat,"  but 
now  the  humble  dwelling  was  a  very  pattern  of 
tidiness.  So  thorough  was  this  tidiness  that  her 
mother  had  no  longer  to  go  about  "  bringing  up 
the  ends"  when  she  found  a  half-  day  to  spend  at 
home.  Anna  also  took  upon  herself  another  ad- 
ditional duty,  which  had  always  fallen  upon  her 
mother  to  do  in  those  hours  which  she  sadly 
needed  for  sleep.  Studying  every  plan  which 
would  lighten  her  mother's  labors  and  better  the 
condition  of  the  family,  she  systematically  de- 
voted a  portion  of  every  day  to  mending  and  re- 
pairing. Her  father,  and  Jacky,  and  Jim,  should 
no  longer  go  ragged.  Besides,  she  worked  many 
hours  amoni^:  the  wilderness  of  neo^lected  shrub- 
bery ;    she   cleared  the  large  yard  of  litter   of  all 


Rex.  171 

kinds,  and  ventured  to  expend  a  trifle  of  the  mon- 
ey she  had  earned  for  a  few  panes  of  glass. 

But  always  at  night  she  felt  dissatisfied  with 
herself  again ;  for  how  could  she  dare  to  call  this 
simple  home  service  "  work  for  Jesus  ?  " 

Yet  I  know  it  was  so  written  down  in  the 
records  of  heaven.  For  the  Master  never  passes 
over  anything,  however  trifling,  which  is  per- 
formed in  such  an  earnest  spkit.  And,  doubt  it 
not,  the  duty  nearest  at  hand  is  always  the  one 
the  Lord  would  have  us  perform  first.  And 
in  after  years,  Anna  could  see  that  this  humble 
school  had  disciplined  her  in  the  thoroughness 
which  she  needed,  when  she  came  to  do  more  im- 
portant business.  And  in  after  years,  too,  when 
she  remembered  that  it  was  her  hand  which  first 
turned  Rex  toward  a  better  life,  she  saw  that  all 
this  while  she  had  really  been,  unconsciously  to 
herself,  doing  that  great  work  for  Jesus  which 
she  craved,  and  that  through  all  her  work  His 
thoughts    had    indeed     been    higher     than    her 


172  Anna  Maylie, 

thoughts.      The   Lord   was    really  leading   her, 
though  she  knew  it  not. 

Her  days  of  out  -  door  labor  in  the  Clemmer 
grounds  were  no  such  fairy  days  as  ahe  had  im- 
agined, but  they  were,  after  all,  her  best  days. 
Johnson  had  grown  to  like  to  have  her  there ;  he 
could  not  resist  her  steady  patience  under  re- 
proof, her  genuine  pleasure  in  his  favorite  work, 
and  her  growing  handiness  and  ,  good  taste  ;  and 
she  passed  many  a  pleasant  hour  listening  to  his 
little  dogmatic  lectures  upon  gardening,  and  his 
accounts  of  old  times  in  England.  She  felt,  too, 
that  the  money  she  earned  was  no  small  help  at 
home,  and,  on  the  whole,  she  was  really  sorry 
when  the  last  day  of  picking  strawberries  came  to 
an  end  ;  and  she  felt  much  relieved  when  he  told 
her  there  would  soon  be  more  work  than  ever  for 
her  to  do,  in  order  to  keep  the  runners  cut  ofif  and 
the  beds  weeded  and  hoed. 

The  noon  sun  was  beating  down  with  burning 


Rex,  173 

rays,  but,  instead  of  going  the  near  way  home 
through  the  alleys,  she  went,  as  she  often  had,  a 
mile  round,  —  away  off  up  the  wide,  handsome 
streets  which  led  by  great  houses  and  their  broad 
grounds,  and  then  down  through  a  fine  portion  of 
the  town  where  there  were  so  many  mechanic's 
cottages.  There  were  those  neat,  practical  gar- 
dens,—  every  inch  of  ground  improved,  — which 
she  liked  to  contemplate  and  study.  Pausing 
here,  walking  slowly  there,  she  was  often  an  hour 
going  home  when  the  regular  walk  could  have 
been  accomplished  in  ten  minutes. 

To-  day,  in  her  strange  pleasure  stroll,  she  was 
brought  to  a  sudden  stand  in  front  of  the  grounds 
belong  to  Prof.  Kinney,  the  Principal  of  the  pub- 
lic schools.  For  there,  receiving  and  marking 
down  the  boxes  of  berries  brought  to  him  by  the 
troops  of  children,  stood  Eex  Palmer.  He  saw 
her  too  ;  but  merely  pausing  to  make  her  an  ex- 
aggerated bow,  with  a  great  wave  of  his  new 
straw  hat,  he  kept  on  at  his  work. 


174:  Anna  May  lie. 

Anna's  heart  gave  a  glad  bound  as  she  went 
on,  and  she  knew  not  why  she  felt  so  strong  and 
rested. 

"  Tally  one  for  Eex  ! ''  she  cried.  "  He  didn't 
take  my  '  shaming' !  " 

It  is  true  that  surprises  scarcely  ever  come 
singly.  On  reaching  home,  the  first  thing  that 
struck  Anna  as  she  opened  the  door,  was  a  sin- 
gular -  looking  package  lying  on  the  table.  Her 
mother  was  not  there  to  explain  it,  but  she  soon 
saw  that  it  was  directed  to  herself,  and  she  has- 
tily cut  the  wrapping  twines.  It  was  books,  — 
books  which  had  been  used,  but  which  also  had 
been  very  nicely  kept.  There  was  a  Sanders's 
Fourth  Reader,  a  Thompson's  Practical  Arith- 
metic, a  Brown's  Grammar,  a  Mitchel's  Geogra- 
phy and  Atlas,  a  Spencerian  copy  -  book,  a 
slate,  a  package  of  pens  and  pencils,  and  a  tiny 
note. 

She  seized  upon  the  note  eagerly,  and  read 
it: 


Bex.  175 

'*  Say  to  Rex  Palmer,  that,  back  of  these 
books,  and  waiting  for  him,  lie  algebras  and 
sciences,  grammars  and  lexicons,  and,  if  he  will, 
diplomas  and  degrees." 

Anna's  veins  were  fit  to  burst  with  the  bound- 
ing blood.  "It  is  so  I  "  she  cried.  "It  is  so,  if 
Eex  will  have  it  so  !  I  do  n't  understand  what 
all  the  words  mean ;  but  if  Eex  only  would,  Iif 
can  do  it  all !  " 

She  picked  up  the  signatureless  note  again. 
But  of  course  she  could  not  recognize  the  hand. 
For  all  she  could  tell,  it  might  be  any  one,  — 
any  one  except  the  one  most  likely  to  do  such  a 
thing.  But  it  was  not  Miss  Clemmer ;  for  she 
had  a  scrap  of  her  writing  lying  treasured  in  her 
pearl  work-box, —  a  pretty,  graceful,  Italian 
hand ;  while  this  writing,  elegant  also,  was 
bolder  and  clearer.  She  opened  the  books  and 
scanned  the  fly  -  leaves  ;  they  had  evidently  borne 
a  name,  but  in  each  book  it  had  been  carefully 
erased. 


176  Anna  Maylie. 

When  her  mother  came  in^  she  questioned  her 
eagerly  to  learn  who  brought  them ;  but  they  had 
been  left  by  the  City  Delivery  wagon,  with 
charges  paid.  So  there  was  no  clue.  But  of  one 
thing  Anna  felt  no  doubt.  She  had  no  doubt 
whatever  that  it  was  a  du-ect  recognition  and  a 
direct  approval  of  her  work  and  her  longings,  by 
her  Father  in  heaven.  "It  seems  wonderful," 
she  said,  "  but  yet  it  is  nothing  strange  at  all. 
Of  course  the  Lord  will  answer  prayer.  I  won- 
der what  Rex  will  say ;  I  wonder  what  he  will 
do !  " 

Her  gladness  and  eagerness  grew  into  positive 
nervousness  as  night  approached  ;  and  she  heard 
Eex's  very  first  step  as  he  came  round  the  corner. 
She  was  standing  in  the  door,  but  he  passed  di- 
rectly through  their  own  gate  without  giving  any 
sign  that  he  saw  her.  "I  wonder  if  he's  so 
vexed  as  that!"  she  mused,  "and  if  he  never 
intends  to  come  in  here  again  !  And  I  have  such 
news  for  him   too?    Well,  I   do  n't  care;    if  he 


Rex.  177 

do  n't,  I  shall  go  over  there,  that's  all."  And 
she  tried  very  hard  to  be  calm. 

But  just  as  Anna  was  lighting  the  candle,  she 
heard  the  gate  swing  to,  and  there  was  Rex,  just 
as  careless  and  unconcerned  as  if  he  had  been  in 
there  every  day.  She  noticed  at  the  very  first 
glance, — and  it  gave  her  a  strange  feeling  of  en- 
couragement, —  how  very  nicely  his  hair  was 
brushed,  and  the  clean  shirt  -  sleeves  and  the  un- 
wonted presence  of  a  necktie  showed  what  pains 
he  had  taken  to  look  well.  It  was  nothing  to 
speak  of,  of  course,  except  that  it  was  something 
entirely  new  for  Rex  Palmer  to  do.  He  threw 
himself  down  in  the  door  -  way  with  a  pleasant 
good  evening  for  her  mother,  and  a  bow  accompa- 
nied with  one  of  the  old-  time  grimaces  for  her- 
eelf." 

"No,  Rex,  come  in,"  she  said;  "I've 
got  something  to  show  you,"  pointing  to  the 
table. 

"  Hello  here  I  "  He  picked   up   the  books,  one 


178  Anna  Maylie. 

by  one,  and  then  laid  them  down,  and  then  tools 
them  up  again.  "  So  you  're  going  to  school, 
are  you,  Anna?  And  that  is  what  you've  been 
earning  money  for,  is  it?  " 

She  laughed  slyly  and  handed  him  the  nott . 
He  puzzled  a  little  over  the  elegant  handwriting, 
but  he  soon  mastered  it.  Anna  stood  eagerly 
watching  his  face ;  and  at  first  there  was  a  great 
light  on  it  as  he  read  and  re  -  read  the  note,  but 
presently  the  fire  in  his  eyes  died  out,  and  a  tide 
of  red  turned  his  sun  -  burned  face  as  dark  as  an 
Indian's.  He  turned  angrily  upon  her  :  "You 
been  beo^o^ino^  for  me  ?  " 

"  Eexford  Palmer  !  I  must  say  you  're  grate- 
ful !     No,  indeed,    I   have  n't  been   begging  for 

you ! " 

Anna  was  angrier  than  he,  —  angrier  than  she 
had  been  for  many  a  day.  But  his  tone  and 
manner  were  past  endurance.  She  went  on : 
"  I  've  not  the  slightest  idea  who  sent  them  ;  but 
I  feel  quite  sure   that  it  was  some  one  who  do  n't 


Bex,  179 

know  you  as  well  as  I  do  !     If  you  had  been  well 
known,  you  might  —  " 

She  stopped  short,  and  turned  away.  Had  she 
not,  after  all,  enough  of  her  Master's  spkit  to  bear 
the  first  trifling  injustice?  Here  she  had  lost 
her  temper  at  the  first  unpleasant  word  that  had 
been  spoken  to  her  for  days.  Poor  Anna  !  She 
stood  there  so  utterly  humiliated  and  penitent, 
that  she  lost,  for  the  moment,  all  interest  in  Rex's 
welfare,  and  all  heart  in  life.  It  was  only  a 
moment  until  Rex  felt  heartily  ashamed  of  his 
rudeness,  and  sorry  for  it.  He  said  in  a  very 
gentle  voice, — 

"  Where  did  you  get  these,  Anna?" 
"  They  were  left  here  by  the  City  Delivery, 
mother  said,  while  I  was  gone ;  and  I  know  noth- 
ing else  about  the  matter.  And  it  is  none  of  my 
business  that  I  know  of,"  she  was  about  to  add, 
but  checked  herself.  Was  she  so  near  telling  a 
falsehood  as  that?  Would  one  sin  lead  so  soon 
to  another  sin  ?     For  was    it   not  her    business  ? 


180  Anna  3faylie. 

Had  she  not  prayed  long .  and  earnestly  over  tliia 
matter  of  liis  going  to  school? — prayed  that  the 
way  would  open,  and  means  be  provided?  Would 
she  now  dare  say  that  it  was  nothing  to  her,  in 
the  very  face  of  those  prayers  ? 

They  were  both  mute  for  a  time,  and  then  Eex 
said,  in  a  frank,  genuine  way  that  would  have 
won  anybody's  forgiveness  at  once, —  "  Anna,  I 
think  I  've  acted  like  a  brute !  Somebody,  evi- 
dently, has  been  very  kind,  and  I  ought  to  ap 
predate  it.  I  did  n't  know  before  that  Eex  Palm- 
er was  ever  mentioned,  or  thought  of,  by  —  by 
anybody  like  the  writer  of  this  note.  I  thought 
at  first, — forgive  me,  Anna,  —  that  you  must 
have  been  to  somebody  and  made  a  pitiful  state- 
ment of  my  needs  ;  and  I  could  n't  stand  it.  I  'm 
as  poor  as  poverty  can  make  white  folks,  I  knovr  ; 
but  I  never  did  take  kindly  to  second  hand 
things,  or,  indeed,  presents  of  any  kind.  But 
this  is  very  kind,  and  I  really  do  appreciate. 
it." 


Hex.  181 

"  I  m  glad  you  feel  so,  Eex,  for  you  needed 
these  books  so." 

"  Not  quite  so  bad  as  you  may  think,  Misa 
Anna.     Look  here  !  " 

He  took  a  little  dirty  roll  from  his  vest  pocket, 
and  picked  it  out,  straight  and  smooth,  before  her 
eyes, —  a  five  dollar  bill  and  a  two. 

"Five  —  and  two  —  seven  dollars,  and  you 
earned  that,  Eex?" 

"  You  did  n't  suppose  I  stole  it,  or  somebody 
gave  it  to  me  ?  "  he  added  with  a  touch  of  the  old 
scorn.     "  Yes,  I  earned  it." 

Anna's  heart  was  yet  sore  with  the  pain  of 
their  brief  quarrel,  and  she  would  n't  ask  him  any 
more  questions  ;  but  finally  he  grew  humble  and 
told  his  story.  He  had  determined  in  some  way 
to  attend  school,  and  at  once  made  a  bold  plunge 
into  the  difficulties  which  stood  in  his  way  ;  went 
straight  to  the  Principal's  house  and  told  him  he 
wished  to  earn  some  money  to  buy  school-books, 
and  asked  him  if  he  could  give  him  any   work  to 


182  Anna  Mat/lie, 

do,  —  sawing  wood,  or  the  like.  Prof.  Kanney 
looked  at  the  boy  in  the  ragged  hat  a  moment ; 
he  liked  liis  clear,  brave,  gray  eye,  and  he  told 
him  he  had  such  work  to  do,  because  the  man 
in  his  employ  was  not  over  punctual.  So  in  five 
minutes  after  ringing  the  bell,  Rex  was  at  work 
upon  a  three  days'  job.  Then  he  was  sent  into 
the  garden  to  do  various  kinds  of  rough  work, 
and  finally  he  had  been  promoted  to  oversee  the 
strawberry  harvest.  At  one  kind  of  work  and 
another  he  had  earned  seven  dollars  at  Prof.  Kin- 
ney's. 

"  So  you  see,  Miss  Anna,  I  can  buy  my  own 
books, —  at  least  those  I  need  now.  And  by  the 
time  I  come  to  Latin,  as  she  says,"  —  he  added 
with  a  curious  tone  of  pride  and  reverence,  ten- 
derly touching  the  note  which  he  had  laid  back 
upon  the  books, —  "  by  the  time  I  come  to  Latin, 
—  why,  a  fellow  that  is  too  shiftless  to  earn  his 
books  won't  be  able  to  make  much  use  of  Latin 
and  Greek,  and  he  better  let  'em  alone  I     What 


Bex,  183 

do  you  think,  anyway?"   he  ad  Jed,  tired  of  her 
silence.     "  Honestly,  now?  " 

"Well,  Ecx,  if  you  won't  be  vexed  at  me,  I 
think  as  I  did  at  first ;  —  that  you  ought  to  be 
very  glad  of  these  books.  A  boy  of  your  age, 
almost  nineteen,  just  beginning  school,  ought  to 
have  the  very  best  start  he  can, —  an  extra  start 
if  possible.  You  do  n't  want  to  be  hampered 
with  anything,  —  ragged  clothes,  or  anything. 
You  can't  study,  or  recite  so  w^ell,  or  under- 
stand so  w^ell,  if  you  are  all  the  time  feeling  how 
that  great  patch  on  your  knee  shows,  and  how 
ragged  your  vest  is.  I  've  been  there,  Rex,  and 
I  know.  And  you  '11  be  a  year  behind  time  if 
you  have  to  get  your  education  barefoot.  Oh,  I 
know,  Rex,"  she  added  with  a  painful  flush  on 
her  face  ;  and  the  tears  came  springing  into  her 
eyes  at  the  bitter  recollections.  "  Maybe  you 
would  n't  think  it,  but  I  believe  in  good  clothes, 
—  that  is,  I  believe  that  they  have  a  use,  a  moral 
use,  as  Miss  Clemmer  would  say.     I  know  when 


184  Anna  May  lie. 

I  went  to  school, —  and  Kex,  I  used  to  have 
to  borrow  my  books,  or  *  look  over'  with 
somebody.  I  used  to  think  I  could  have  learned 
twice  as  fast  if  I  had  had  a  warm,  bright,  plaid 
dress  like  Mary  King's ;  my  calico  dress  was  so 
old,  and  in  the  middle  of  winter  it  would  always 
look  so  thin  and  light  colored,  and  it  mortified  me 
so,  and  it  always  would  take  my  mind  off  from 
my  lessons  at  recitations.  I  would  like  to  save 
you  this.  So,  Rex,  if  you  want  my  advice,  you 
will  look  at  it  as  I  do,  —  that  the  Lord  has  cer- 
tainly stretched  out  His  hand  to  help  you  get  an 
education,  and  you  will  accept  these  books  as 
His  gift.  When  you  started  out  and  showed 
yourself  energetic,  and  in  earnest  about  the  mat- 
ter, then  He  came  to  your  aid,  and  so  He  always 
will.  And  now.  Rex,  I  want  you  to  go  down 
town  and  buy  yom'self  a  neat  vest,  and  a  couple 
of  pairs  of  ready-made  cotton  pants, —  some- 
thins:  with  a  small  check  that  will  wash  and  iron 
well,  —  and  a  pair  of  shoes,  and  some  socks  and 


Rex,  185 

collars."  And  Anna  stopped,  half  out  of  breath, 
and  waited  for  a  reply. 

But  Rex  did  n't  say  whether  he  would  or 
would  n't.  He  sat  turning  over  one  book  after 
another.  "  I  wish  I  could  know  who  sent  these  ; 
—  but  it  was  evidently  intended  that  I  should 
not,  for  the  name  is  rubbed  out  in  every  one  of 
them.  Hello  here  !  —  let  me  see  —  what's 
this?" 

For  the  light  had  fallen  on  the  fly  -  leaf  in  such 
a  way  that,  although  the  lead  -  marks  of  the  writ- 
ing were  wholly  erased,  the  print  of  the  letters 
was  partially  revealed.  Rex  scanned  it  closely. 
"  M  —  there  a  capital  M,  sure's  you  live  !  And 
I  believe  this  other  capital  is  an  R,"  he  added 
after  a  while ;  "  but  the  small  letters  I  can't  make 
out  at  all." 

Anna  knew  very  well  now ;  should  she  tell 
him?  She  decided  that  it  was  not  best,  for  she 
could  not  tell  what  fresh  scruple  his  pride  might 
raise. 


186  Anna  31  ay  lie. 

During  the  conversation  which  followed,  all 
the  while  he  was  giving  her  an  account  of  the 
strawberry  harvest  at  Prof.  Kinney's,  he  was  still 
handling  and  looking  over  the  books  and  once,  in 
the  middle  of  a  sentence,  he  interrupted  himself, 
— "  I  shall  have  to  buy  a  Colburn's  Mental  Arith- 
metic anyway,  and  I  will  get  a  sack  of  flour  for 
Lute,  too."  So  Anna  concluded  that  he  was 
thinking  favorably  of  her  advice.  Nothing  far- 
ther was  said  respecting  his  earnings,  but  when 
he  went  home  he  gathered  up  the  books. 

That  night,  when  Anna  was  sitting  in  her  own 
chamber  with  her  Bible  open  before  her,  there 
came  over  her  a  vivid  remembrance  of  Miss 
Clemmer's  tender  encouragement, —  the  patient 
waiting  after  planting  for  the  seed  to  spring  up. 
She  marveled  that  she  had  grown  impatient  to  see 
it  so  soon,  and  she  set  herself  anew  to  learn  the 
lesson  of  patience  and  faith.  She  felt  that  she, 
even  she,  had  a  thanksgiving  to  offer  for  special 
answer  to  prayer.     She   resolved   that   hereafter 


Bex, 


187 


she  would  work  in  every  direction,  and  sow  the 
good  seed  in  every  spot,  however  barren  and 
seemingly  unpromising,  and  quietly  leave  it  to 
rest  beneath  the  sunshine  of  His  promise  and  the 
early  and  the  latter  rain  which  she  now  felt  was 
Bure  to  fall. 


CHAPTER  Xm. 

A   SABBATH   EVENING. 

HE  summer  wore  on,  but  brought 
few  visible  changes  ;  and  Anna  Maylie 
had  hoped  for  so  manj.  Her  hands 
still  ached  with  their  emptiness,  and  her 
eyes  with  beholding  nothing.  In  her  zeal,  and 
in  her  sorrow  over  the  ignorance  and  darkness 
and  painful  life  with  which  she  was  surrounded, 
she  could  pray  and  look  for  nothing  less  than 
miracles ;  the  very  miracles  of  Jerusalem  and 
Galilee  would  not  have  been  too  much  for  her  de- 


A  Sahhath  Evening »  189 

sire.  With  the  progress  of  Rex  Palmer  she  was 
indeed  satisfied,  and  with  good  reason.  Slie  had 
never  ceased  to  look  upon  him  as  her  direct  an- 
swer to  prayer,  and  he  did  not  fail  to  keep  her 
faith  in  her  one  good  work  alive.  His  progress 
was  rapid.  His  clear,  gray  eye,  with  its  pierc- 
ing ray,  had  not  deceived  Prof.  Kinney.  As 
he  grew  thorough  in  his  studies,  he  grew 
thorough  at  home  also.  Though  Anna  would 
not  have  thought  of  tracing  it  back  to  herself, 
poor  Lute  Palmer  had  many  a  comfort  that  sum- 
mer to  thank  Anna  May  lie's  ^  praying,  working 
religion  for.  Anna  will  never  realize  it,  maybe, 
until  in  heaven  she  gathers  in  her  rewards  for  all 
the  good  which  she  has  accomplished,  not  only 
by  her  direct  deeds,  but  also  for  that  good  which 
others,  acting  under  her  influence,  have  done. 
Now,  Rex  never  thouMit  of  o'oino:  to  school  until 
the  day's  supply  of  wood  was  sawed  and  split, 
and  the  water  brouo;ht.  I  think  he  could  never 
before  have  realized  what  it  must  be  for  his  sister 


190  Anna  Maylie, 

to  support  them  all,  even  in  such  miserable  style 
as  it  was,  for  now  he  had  the  manliness  to  accept 
it  no  longer.  Every  night  found  him  at  work 
somewhere,  at  something,  it  mattered  not  what. 
Not  every  barrel  of  flour,  not  every  load  of  wood, 
did  poor  Lute  sew  for  now.  Insensibly  their 
house  had  grown  tidier  too,  and  more  attractive, 
both  within  and  without.  But  to  Anna,  every- 
thing, save  Eex,  remained  the  same. 

Miss  Clemmer  had  recovered,  and  was  now  al- 
most always  with  her  class,  but  Anna's  loving 
eye  could  not  fail  to  see  that  she  grew  more 
delicate,  and  she  visited  Morristown  Common 
much  less  frequently  than  in  other  days.  It 
w^as  now  months  since  Miss  Clemmer  first  invited 
her  girls,  yet  only  Rachel  and  she  attended  the 
little  Friday  evening  prayer  meetings. 

Her  mother  could  not  yet  attend  church,  for 
tlie  old  want  of  means  to  make  a  respectable  ap- 
pearance.  "  The  best  I  can  do,  daughter,  is  to 
get  you  ready,  and   read  my  Bible  at  home,"  she 


A  Sahhaih  Evening,  191 

said.      Her   brothers    seemed     as  untamable    aa 
ever  ;  her  father  drank  just  as  much  brandy. 

But  there  was  a  change  going  on  everywhere. 
And  it  would  have  been  perceptible  to  one  less 
ardent  than  Anna,  showing  that  prayer  was 
heard,  always  heard  and  heeded.  Even  in  Miss 
Clemmer's  class  there  was  a  change,  which  Miss 
Clemmer  could  perceive,  even  if  Anna  failed  to 
do  so.  Rachel  also  saw  that  Fanny  Howl  and 
and  Satie  Marsh  were  betraying  a  far  more  seri- 
ous interest  in  all  the  services  of  the  church. 
Even  in  that  large  congregation.  Dr.  Mason  had 
come  to  notice  their  attentive  young  faces,  Sab- 
bath after  Sabbath.  They  had,  too,  almost 
ceased  to  shun  Rachel's  society,  as  they  had  so 
evidently  done  after  she  united  with  the  church. 
And  although  she  had  not  counted  it,  or  recog- 
■^uzed  it,  during  the  many  eclipses  of  faith 
through  which  ghe  groped,  Anna,  too,  must  have 
felt  a  difference  at  Sabbath  School  in  their  de- 
meanor toward  herself.     To  be    sure,  the  differ- 


192  Anna  Maylte. 

ence  was  denoted  by  trifles, — like  the  quiet  pasa 
in 2^  of  a  fan,  the  cfierins;  to  share  a  sin^finof  book 
with  her,  the  smile  and  the  pleasant  word  which 
they  voluntarily  added  when  she  was  talking 
with  Rachel,  the  happening  to  walk  with  her  to 
the  corner.  But  girls  will  understand  the  influ- 
ence upon  each  other  of  these  small,  sweet  cour- 
tesies of  life. 

At  home  too,  just  as  really,  there  was  a 
change.  For  now  Jacky  and  Jim  would  some- 
times ask  her  for  a  Bible  story  when  they  were 
staying  in  the  house  because  it  was  raining,  and 
had  learned,  too,  to  sing  some  of  her  Sunday 
school  hymns.  This  they  rather  liked  ;  and  the 
deepest  impression  she  had  made  upon  them  was 
one  day  when  Jacky  suddenly  asked  her  if  there 
really  was  any  such  place  as  a  "  Happy  Land,  far, 
far  away."  To  her  surprise,  he  seemed  greatly 
impressed  with  i\\e  idea  that,  when  he  came  to 
die,  he  would  enter  another  world,  and  live 
again,  still   be  Jacky    May  lie,  and   be   happy  or 


A  Sahhath  Evening,  193 

miserable  just  according  to  the  way  he  had  lived 
in  this  life.  There  was  no  shocking  commentary 
on  this,  and  no  street  slang.  He  stood  looking 
at  her  more  solemnly  than  she  thought  Jacky 
ever  could  look ;  and  when  he  walked  off  with 
little  Jim,  it  was  not  with  a  leap  and  a  shout ; 
and  Anna  wondered  if  she  had  not  made  a  mis- 
take ;  if  it  would  not  have  been  better  to  trust 
them  a  little  more  and  talk  to  them  directly  of 
God,  and  heaven,  and  Jesus,  and  the  life  to  come. 
There  was,  too,  an  improvement  in  their  gen- 
eral behavior,  especially  at  meals.  They  were 
not  so  boisterous  ;  they  really  began  to  show  the 
influence  of  their  sister's  nicely  -  laid  table,  and 
her  particular  manners,  and  her  personal  refine- 
ment. She  was  consistent ;  and  no  one  appreci- 
ates consistency  as  children  do  ;  nothing  will  in- 
fluence children  like  consistency.  Anna  was 
always  as  thoughtful  and  particular  in  her  ob- 
servances at  the  table,  even  when,  as  it  some- 
times happened,  there  was  nothing  placed  upon  it 


194  Anna  Maylie, 

save  a  plate  of  potatoes,  a  cellar  of  salt  and  their 
cups  of  cold  water.  But  Anna, —  I  can  not  re- 
frain from  mentioning  it,  ^  invariably  managed 
that  this  spare  meal,  when  it  must  be  thus  spare 
and  uninviting,  should  be  the  dinner,  when  she 
and  the  boys  were  alone  ;  the  breakfasts  and  the 
suppers,  which  their  mother  was  to  share  with 
them,  were  much  more  nourishing  and  tempting, 
if  Anna  could  possibly  compass  it.  She  had  such 
a  pitiful,  heart  -  breaking  longing  to  make  life 
more  comfortable  for  her  mother,  and  in  various 
little  ways  she  was  constantly  contriving  small 
pleasures  and  comforts  for  her.  From  her 
wages,  which  she  faithfully  first  tithed  and  then 
handed  to  her  mother  for  the  family  expenses, 
fihe  now  and  then  retained  a  stray  twenty  -  five 
cent  piece,  that  she  might  purchase  the  tiny  quar- 
ter -  pound  of  tea  which  she  knew  her  mother 
would  always  forego  when  the  family  needs  were 
over  -  many. 

And   though,  as   I  said   before,  IVIrs.    Maylie 


A  Sabbath  Evening*  195 

could  not  yet  attend  church,  a  better  dress  had 
been  bought  and  laid  aside  for  Sunday  wear ;  yet 
as  shoes,  bonnet,  shawl  and  gloves  were  still 
lacking,  the  dress  did  not  encourage  Anna  as 
perhaps  it  ought. 

Though  you  might  not  have  been  able  to  spec- 
ify it,  there  certainly  was  also  a  change  in  Tom 
Maylie.  Not  that  he  visited  the  corner  saloon 
any  the  less,  but  that  sometimes  became  home 
earlier  and  soberer;  and,  however  he  might  treat 
the  rest  of  his  family,  he  never  now  scolded  or 
snubbed  Anna,  and  he  invariably  enforced  all 
her  requests  upon  Jacky  and  Jim.  Two  or  three 
times,  poor  Mrs.  May  lie's  ever  -  watchful  eye 
had  caught  him  looking  around  almost  sadly 
upon  the  dilapidated  house  and  the  broken  fences. 
He  even,  one  day,  brought  home  a  pair  of 
new  hinges,  and  rehung  the  old  gate  which  had 
been  torn  down  by  the  frantic  efforts  of  a  cow, 
which  had  broken  in,  to  break  out,  and  had  been 
discovered  and  attacked  simultaneously  by  Mary 


196  Anna  Maylie, 

and  Min  Palmer,  and  Jacky  and  Jim.  And 
once,  lately,  coming  into  possession  of  an  unusu- 
ally large  sum  of  money  for  some  service  ren- 
dered at  the  saloon,  he  appropriated,  in  the  flush 
of  possessing  so  much  money,  a  certain  portion 
of  it  for  a  sack  of  flour, — a  contribution  to  the 
family  support  which  he  had  not  made  before 
for  years.  Of  late,  too,  he  had  never  failed  to 
look  pleased  when  he  saw  Anna  dressed  for 
church,  and  more  than  once,  on  Sunday,  had  he 
sent  Jacky  and  Jim  home  from  some  street  corner. 

Is  not  the  frost  of  the  long,  dreary  winter 
coming  forth,  and  are  not  the  spring  rains  mellow- 
ing the  soil,  O  impatient  Anna? 

Sabbath  afternoon,  especially  that  pleasant 
part  of  it  which  comes  after  tea,  had  grown  to  be 
the  most  delightful  portion  of  the  whole  week 
to  Anna  and  her  mother.  The  First  church  Sab- 
bath school  owned  a  good  library,  well  stored 
with  both  the  old  and  new  publications  of  several 
different   publishing  houses,    and   of   late   Anna 


A  Sabbath  Evening,  197 

had  exercised  particular  care,  in  selecting  books, 
to  choose  such  as  would  interest  her  mother  when 
she  came  to  read  them  aloud  during  those  pleas- 
ant "  after  -  teas."  This  was  the  only  time  through 
the  whole  week  when  poor  Mrs.  Maylie  could 
sit  for  two  or  three  of  the  hours  of  daylight,  and 
all  the  evening,  in  her  cushioned  rocking  -  chair, 
and  rest ;  and  it  was  her  greatest  pleasure  then 
to  hear  Anna  read.  Lately  too,  Jacky  and  Jim 
had  lingered  around  home  after  supper,  and 
Anna's  coaxing,  and  the  good  -  natured  authority 
of  Hex,  who  nearly  always  came  over,  would 
avail  to  keep  them  inside  the  gate  for  the  remain- 
ing portion  of  the  day.  Quite  often  too.  Lute 
and  her  little  sisters  would  come  over  with  Rex, 
or  else  follow  him.  The  pleasant  conversation, 
the  animated  readings, —  for  Anna  could  read 
Sunday  -  school  books  better  than  she  could  read 
anything  else, —  which  she  could  hear  through 
the  open  doors  and  windows,  and  the  pleasant 
picture  which  they  made  sometimes  when  they  all 


198  Anna  Maylie. 

sat  out  under  the  old  maples,  was  too  much  for 
Lute  to  resist.  Nowhere  else  on  Morristown 
Common  was  there  anything  so  attractive  and 
refined.  Anna  made  them  all  welcome,  and 
strove  hard  to  strengthen  those  sweet  Sabbath 
influences.  It  was  not  long  before  the  question, 
as  to  what  Anna's  next  Sunday  -  school  book 
would  be,  was  of  as  great  interest  to  Lute  as  to 
Mrs.  Maylie. 

Lately  too,  Anna  felt  very  sure  that  Kex  at- 
tended church  somewhere,  for  she  had  met,  or 
passed  him  often  up  -  town  at  the  hour  of  serv- 
ice, wearing  that  serious  and  respectable  air 
by  which  it  is  possible  to  distinguish  the  very- 
humblest  church  -  goer  from  the  mere  lounger  on 
the  street.  But  she  refrained  from  questioning 
him  ;  indeed  she  now  never  urged  his  confidence ; 
the  days  of  "  stirring  up"  and  lecturing  had  long 
Bince  gone  by. 

This  particular     Sabbath    afternoon  a    heavy 


A  Sahhath  Evening,  199 

thunder  storm  had  come  up  during  tea,  and  the 
rain  still  continuing,  Mr.  May  lie,  who  was  quite 
sober,  had  not  gone  out  as  usual,  but  had  thrown 
himself  upon  the  lounge  and  fallen  asleep.  Rex 
had  come  over,  and  it  being  rather  too  dark  for 
reading  easily,  and  not  sufficiently  late  for  lights, 
they  quietly  sat  and  talked, — Anna  idly  chanting 
portions  of  a  Sentence  which  the  school  was  prac- 
ticing to  sing  as  a  farewell  to  their  superintend- 
ent, Esquire  Rowland,  who  was  about  to  leave 
for  a  tour  through  Europe,  expecting  to  be  gone 
a  long  time.  Something  about  the  music  inter- 
ested Rex,  and  she  sang  it  through  for  him. 

"I  do  n't  get  the  idea  now,"  he  said  ;  "let's  see 
the  book." 

Together  they  tried  the  piece,  but  they  made 
sad  work  of  it, —  Jacky  sitting  directly  in  front 
of  them  and  persisting  in  accompanying  them  in 
spite  of  all  their  remonstrances.  Neither  Rex 
nor  Anna  seemed  to  have  any  natural  sense  of  the 
recitative  in  singing,  and,  though   now   and  then 


200  Anna  Maylie. 

Anna's  accenting  was  very  good,  a  fragmentary 
reminiscence  of  the  Saturday  night's  practicing, — 
the  general  discord  and  failure  were  indescriba- 
bly harrowing  to  a  cultivated  ear. 

Finally,  Mr.  Maylie  sprang  up. 

"My  goodness,  Anna  !  You  do  n't  tell  me  that 
you  sing  at  your  Sunday  Schools  ?  I  never  heard 
anything  quite  so  barbarous  !  Have  you  no  idea  of 
time,  whatever?  See  here  now! — ^What's  the 
words? — 'The  Lord  bless  thee,  and  keep  thee.'  " 

A  voice  grand  as  an  organ  chanted  the  sentence 
through  for  them.  There  was  a  dead  silence  in 
the  room. 

"  There !  Now  let  me  give  you  that  bar  I 
heard  you  trying,  Eex, —  ^  The  Lord  lift  up  the 
light  of  his  countenance  upon  thee.' " 

Hex  looked  in  absolute  surprise  at  poor,  drunk- 
en Tom  Maylie,  standing  there  with  a  master's 
frown,  and  singing  too  with  a  master's  voice. 
Anna  never  once  took  her  eyes  from  her  father's 
transformed  face ;    she  felt  that  even   so   might 


A  Sabbath  Evening »  201 

have  looked  and  suno^  the  Jewish  leaders  of  the 
mighty  antiphonal  choirs  at  the  dedication  of 
Solomon's  temple. 

"  If  you  would  sing  the  line  through  once  more 
for  me,  Mr.  Maylie?"  Rex  respectfully  re- 
quested. Without  a  word,  he  crossed  the  floor 
and  sat  down  in  the  chair  which  Rex  had  va- 
cated, and  took  the  book  and  sang  the  part. 

"Now  sing  it  with  me,"  he  said,  "by  note. 
Beat  the  time.     Now  !  " 

Jacky  and  Jim  had  retreated  to  their  mother's 
chair  and  were  standing  there  in  respectful  si- 
lence, and  she  moved  out  of  range  of  her  hus- 
band's eyes,  was  weeping,  loyal  yet  to  every  re- 
membrance and  association  of  his  better  days. 

"  Now  by  word  !  "  and  still  beating  time,  he 
earned  Rex  through  the   stately  bar  triumphantly. 

Then  he  turned  to  Anna.  "  Now  for  you. 
Sis.  Could  'n't  you  carry  the  soprano  alone, 
think?  No?  Well,  let  me  render  it  for  you,  so 
that  you  may  have   the   correct  idea  to  work  up 


202  Anna    Maylie, 

to. —  There  !  that  gives  you  a  glimpse,  at  least, 
of  the  composer's  idea.     Now  try  it  with  me." 

Tremulously  enough  Anna's  voice,  usually  so 
clear  and  strong,  now  struck  the  words, —  a  slen- 
der thread  of  silver  sound  gleaming  along  the 
golden  music  of  her  father's  full,  majestic  tones. 

"A  little  more  force,  Sis,  next  time.  Now, 
all  together  once  !  " 

By  this  time  Lute  and  M  ry  and  Min  had  come 
over,  drawn  there  in  spicf-  of  the  rain,  by  the  un- 
usual harmony ; — it  sounded  over  there  like  a 
church  choir.  Lute  said.  But  when  they  came  in 
they  sat  down  without  speaking ;  for  could  it  be 
Tom  Maylie  ?    and  singing  church  music  ? 

But  already  the  spell  was  dissolving ;  he  was 
coming  to  himself, —  back  to  the  self  of  the  later 
years.  He  laid  down  the  book,  and  the  color 
mounted  to  his  forehead.  With  an  uncertain 
sweep  of  his  hand  through  his  hair,  he  said,  not 
meeting  the  eyes  of  any  one  in  the  room,  but 
looking  from  the  window, — 


Kow  all  together.  —  Page  202. 


A  jSahhath  Evening,  203 

"  Well,  I  guess  the  rain  is  about  over." 

Anna  knew  too  well  that  familiar  casting  of 

his  eyes  about  in   search  of   his  hat.     "  Oh  no, 

Father,"  she  exclaimed,    "  It  rains  too  hard  to  go 

out  to  night,  and  I  want  you  to  help  us  practice, 

—  if  you  only  would  train  Eex  on  that  bass, 
father ! " 

He  had  risen,  but  it  really  was  raining  some 
yet  in  the  presence  of  the  clear  sunset.  He  re- 
luctantly sat  down  again.  Mrs.  Maylie  had 
brouo-ht  a  light,  and  he  fell  to  turnino^  over  the 
book  as  an  old  sinoer  will.     "  Windham  —  Mear 

—  Coronation  —  China  —  why,  I  have  n't  seen 
these  old  church  tunes  for  years  and  years,  — 
not  since  I  led  in  the  old  Baptist  church,  Laura  I 
Do  you  remember  the  old  gallery  ?" 

Anna  interrupted, — 

"  Here  is  Ariel,  Father ;  it  is  so  triumphant 
that  I  wish  I  could  hear  it  once  as  you  would 
sing  it ! " 

Quite  absorbed  again,  he  settled  back  in  his 


204  Anna  Maylie, 

chair  and  sang  the  piece  for  her.  "  And  here  is 
earnest  old  Hebron,"  he  added  and  struck  the 
key.  "  That  goes  back  to  the  old  days,  do  n't 
it,  Laura?  "  he  said,  with  an  absent  smile,  to  his 
wife. 

She  crowded  back  the  tears  and  the  chokingr 
emotion.  "I  remember  well  how  you  used  to 
sing  it,  Tom.  I  wish  the  children  could  hear 
their  father  once  at  the  organ.  Won't  you  give 
them  some  of  those  old  Episcopal  chants  ?  " 

He  sat  musing  for  a  few  moments,  and  then, 
clear  and  lofty,  the  ^"^  Gloria  in  Excelsis'^  swelled 
forth.  Poor  Mrs.  Maylie 's  eye  kindled  with  an 
unwonted  fire,  and,  putting  aside  little  Jim,  she 
leaned  forward  and  joined  her  voice  to  his,  —  a 
Bweet  soprano,  sweet,  though  faded,  like  her  face, 
and  utterly  failing  upon  now  and  then  a  high 
note, —  "flatting"  she  said, —  but  for  clearness 
and  swiftness  and  distinctness  of  enunciation  in 
chanting,  Anna  had  never  heard  anything  like  it. 
And  then  the  two  gave  their  silent  listeners  chant. 


A  Sabbath  Evening,  205 

Bentence,  anthem,  and  requiem,  one  after  another, 
in  a  cultivated  style  which  few  attain  ;  and  many 
a  self-satisfied  musical  amateur  would  have  be- 
come conscious  of  the  false  standard  and  their 
own  short  -  comings,  if  they  could  have  listened 
that  night  to  the  singing  of  drunken  Tom  Maylie 
and  his  poor,  faded  wife, — the  washer-  woman  of 
Morristown  Common. 

But  there  came  the  fatal  pause  at  last.  He 
had  time  to  look  about  upon  the  humble  walls 
with  their  broken  plastering,  the  pine  table  and  its 
tallow  candle,  his  worn  and  shrinking  wife,  his 
own  threadbare  garments  ;  and  his  air  of  dignity 
and  command  seemed  to  fade  visibly  before  their 
eyes.  He  rose,  opened  the  door  and  looked  out ; 
it  was  clear  and  starlit ;  and,  in  spite  of  Anna's 
plea  to  try  "  Siloam"  with  them,  he  had  taken  his 
hat  and  was  gone. 

Jacky  was  the  first  to  break  the  painful  si- 
lence. "  There !  he's  got  off  without  my  and 
Jim's  piece  after  all  i     I  was  going  to  have   fa- 


206  Anna  Maylie. 

ther  try  '  Happy  Land'  after  the  rest  of  you  got 
throiigli  with  him."  And  very  disappointed  the 
little  fellow  looked,  too. 

Anna  sighed  as  she  saw  him  really  go  round 
the  corner,  and  knew  that  it  was  all  over,  for  that 
night  at  least.  But  she  turned  back  to  the  rest. 
"Well,  Jacky,  it  was  too  bad  for  you  and  poor 
little  Jim  to  have  no  share  in  such  a  splendid 
father !  But  here's  me,  and  mother,  and  Rex, 
and  Mary,  and  little  Min,  left  to  sing  with  yet. 
Come  up  here  by  the  table.  Lute,  and  we  '11  all 
sing  *  Happy  Land.'  Come,  Mother,  I  shall 
never  let  you  off  any  more.  Begin  it,  Eex ;  now 
sing,  Jacky." 

Loud  and  clear  the  old  -  fashioned  Sunday  - 
school  favorite  rang  out  on  the  soft,  still  evening 
air.  Jacky  and  Jim  both  sang  lustily,  and  the 
sounds  must  have  floated  to  the  farthest  house 
on  the  Common,  "I'll  away  to  the  Sunday - 
school"  followed,  and  while  they  were  singing 
that,    Mrs.  Petersham  and  Ginnie   came  in.     As 


A  8ahbath  Uvening,  207 

Anna  paused  to  speak  with  them,  little  Jim 
looked  up. 

"  I  never  awajed  to  Sunday  -  school !  " 

"Why  do  n't  you,  then?"  asked  Rex  of  the 
little  fellow  who  stood  between  his  knees. 

"  I  do'  no  ;  guess  Anny  never  wanted  me  to  ; 
I  do'  no." 

Jacky  laughed  outright.  "Ho,  ho!  You'd 
look  fine  at  that  thar  swell  school, —  you  and  me, 
Jim  !  "  And  I  can  give  you  no  adequate  idea  of 
the  strange,  pained  feeling  in  the  sister's  heart  as 
she  heard  it. 

"  Was  you  ever  at  any  of  'em,  Eex  ?  "  asked 
little  Jim. 

"  Yes,  I  say,  old  fellow,"  put  in  Jacky,  "  why 
do  n't  you  go  ?  —  you  're  getting  to  be  quite  a 
swell.  My  eyes  !  how  we  does  curl  our  hair  I 
and  starches  our  collar !  and  shines  up  our 
boots ! " 

"There,  you  hush  up  !  "  exclaimed  Mrs.  May- 
lie,  taking  him  by  the  arm ;    "  this  is  great  kmd 


208  Anna  Maylie, 

of  talk  for  Sunday  night,  isn't  it?  You  hush, 
now !  " 

"Anny,  I  wish  you'd  all  sing  that  *  Happy 
Land'  again  if 'taint  too  much  trouble,"  requested 
Mrs.  Petersham.  "  It  did  sound  dreadful  sweet 
when  we 's  a  -  coming  across  the  green  ;  the  rain, 
you  know,  has  made  the  air  oncommon  clear.  I 
do  n't  know  as  I  ever  heerd  it  afore ;  but  some- 
way it  took  me  back  to  mother's  funeral  and  the 
way  I  felt  then.  Why,  if  there  ain't  Miss  Green 
and  her  Agnes  !  Wait  a  minute,  Anny  !  Come 
in  here,  'Lizabeth ;  they  're  going  to  sing  !  " 

Mrs.  Green  and  Agnes  came  in,  and  then 
"  Happy  Land"  was  sung  again,  and  then  re- 
peated, and  so  sweet  was  it,  and  so  inspiring, 
that  the  last  time  both  Mrs.  Green  and  Mrs. 
Petersham  joined  in  all  such  refrains  as  "  Far, 
far  away,"  "Bright,  bright  as  day."  Their's  was 
a  strange  kind  of  singing,  —  half  singing,  half 
humming ;  but  it  brought  the  moisture  to  Anna's 
eyes. 


A  Sabbath  Evening,  209 

"  I  declare !  its  quite  like  a  meeting,"  whis- 
pered Mrs.  Green  to  Mrs.  Petersham,  while 
Anna  was  consulting  with  Rex  what  next  to  sing. 
Then  followed  the  old  Christmas  hymn, — "  While 
Shepherds  watched  their  flocks  by  night." 

"  That's  a  dreadful  purty  piece,  do  n't  you 
think  so.  Miss  Maylie  ?  " 

"Yes,"  said  Mrs.  Maylie.  "That  was  al- 
ways a  favorite  of  mine." 

"  Then  you  've  heerd  it  afore  ?  —  I  never 
did." 

A  bright  color  had  been  coming  and  going  on 
Anna's  cheeks  for  the  last  few  moments,  but  she 
resolved  that  she  would  speak.  Her  voice  trem- 
bled a  little  as  she  did.  "  It  is  a  pretty  piece, 
Mrs.  Green,  but  I  have  never  thought  that  it 
could  be  compared  in  any  way  with  the  real  Tes- 
tament story  itself.  I  believe  that  you,  and  Mrs. 
Petersham,  and  mother,  will  all  think  so  too 
when  you  come  to  hear  them  both  together. 
Would  n't  you  like  to  have  me  read  it  aloud  ?  " 


210  Anna  Maylie, 

For  a  moment  there  was  a  constrained  h  — 
ming,  an  embarrassed  move,  and  then  Mrs. 
Petersham  answered, — 

"For  my  part,  I'd  Hke  it.  I  never  gets  a 
minnit's  time  now  -  a  -  days  to  even  look  'tween 
the  leds  of  the  Bible." 

Anna  handed  the  open  Testament  to  Rex. —  "  I 
am  such  a  poor  reader,"  she  said. 

Eex  colored ;  but  he  took  it  in  a  straightfor- 
ward way,  as  if  reading  the  Bible  was  indeed 
nothing  to  blush  for.  And  Anna  felt  that  the 
way  in  which  he  took  the  Book,  sinner  as  he  was, 
and  in  the  presence  of  his  rough  neighbors,  spoke 
volumes  for  the  genuineness  of  his  manhood. 
How  well  he  read  those  chapters  too  ! —  with  suf- 
ficient action  of  voice  and  vivacity  of  tone  to  in- 
terest his  hearers,  but  not  quite  as  he  would  have 
read  the  account  from  any  other  book.  One  who 
had  ever  heard  of  the  Bible  would  have  known 
instinctively  that  it  was  the  Bible  from  which  Rex 
was  reading. 


A  Sabbath  Evening.  211 

"  And  that  was  the  way  tlie  Saviour  of  sinners 
was  born,"  said  Anna,  softly,  as  Rex  laid  down 
the  Book  ;  —  "in  no  better  place  than  any  of  our 
houses  here  on  the  Common." 

"  Dear  me  !  —  ^t  want  no  better,  was  it  ?  " 
mused  Mrs.  Petersham. 

"  And  how  much  He  was  among  poor  folks 
always,"  said  Mrs.  May  lie,  —  "  Always  so  kind 
to  them !  " 

"You  will  be  struck  with  that  all  the  way 
through  the  Testament,"  said  Anna.  "  You  wii\ 
see  that  He  was  always  followed  by  those  who 
were  poor,  and  sick,  and  in  trouble." 

"  He  never  was  above  'tending  to  such  as  we, 
was  he  ?  How  good  it  is  to  think  of !  "  sighed 
Mrs.  Petersham  again.  "I  have  allers  meant  to 
get  at  the  Bible  some  day,  but  I  d'  no  as  I  ever 
shall.  I  hope  Ginnie  '11  grow  up  different." 
"  Can  Ginnie  read  ?  "  asked  Anna. 
"  Oh,  my,  yes  1  Ginnie  is  quite  a  for'ard 
scholard, — Ginnie  is.  She  reads  in  readings  now." 


212  Anna  May  lie, 

"  That  Is  nice.  She  is  large  enough  now,  Mrs. 
Petersham,  to  be  learning  little  verses  out  of  the 
Bible ;  und  then  you  know  she  '11  grow  up  fa- 
miliar with  it.  I  '11  teach  her  a  verse  to  -  night, 
and  Agnes  too,  Mrs.  Green,  if  you  would  like  it, 
—  and  all  the  children, —  why  not?  And  then, 
next  Sunday  night,  if  you  will  come  over,  I  '11 
hear  them  and  explain  to  them  as  well  as  I  can 
what  they  mean.  And  we  will  teach  them  to 
sing,  too." 

Anna  said  all  this  very  modestly,  but  her  eyes 
were  sharp  to  scan  the  mothers'  faces.  However, 
there  was  little  need  for  argument  or  inducement. 
The  poor  women  showed  their  gratitude  and  grat- 
ification in  every  feature  as  she  gathered  the  lit- 
tle ones  around  her.  They  made  too  large  a 
class, —  Mary,  and  Min,  and  Agnes,  and  Ginnie, 
and  Jacky,  and  Jim,  —  and  she  delegated  a  part 
of  the  work  to  Rex.  How  each  mother  bent  for- 
ward to  watch  her  child,  and  listened,  and 
prompted,   first  with  an  encouraging  word  and 


A  Sabbath  Evening,  213 

tlien  with  a  threatening  gesture,  following  up  a 
frown  with  a  coaxing  smile !  And  each  little 
girl,  even  Mary  and  Min,  looked  so  solemn,  and 
was  so  bashful,  and  was  obliged  to  say  her  verse 
over  with  help  so  many  times  before  she  could 
finally  say  it  alone,  that  it  was  nearly  ten  o'clock 
before  the  work  was  done.  But  each  child, 
when  she  at  last  did  go  home,  was  mistress  of 
that  tender  little  verse  : 

"Suffer  little  children  to  come  unto  me,  and 
forbid  them  not,  for  of  such  is  the  kingdom  of 
Heaven." 

Each  one  could  repeat  it  when  she  reached 
home,  excepting  little  Ginnie  Petersham,  who 
had  been  greatly  disconcerted  all  the  time  by  the 
frightful  grimaces  of  Jacky  Maylie,  who  would 
persist,  whenever  Rex  was  not  looking,  in  mak- 
ing mouths  at  her  behind  Anna's  back  at  the  time 
she  was  reciting. 

There  was  a  definite  arrangement  that  the 
children  should  be  brought  over  the  next  Sabbath 


214  Anna  Maylie, 

evening,  —  Anna  promising  them  a  chapter  from 
her  Sunday  -  school  book,  and  to  teach  the  little 
ones  to  sing.  Mrs.  Green  said  she  would  have 
both  her  children  come,  and  would  bring  over 
some  chairs.  Mrs.  Petersham  begged  permission 
to  invite  Mrs.  Fish  and  her  two  girls.  Anna  was 
conscious  of  a  feeling  of  bewilderment  at  the  rapid 
growth  and  widening  out  of  her  little  effort,  but 
«he  -vculd  not,  dared  not  circumscribe  it,  and  so 
■siie  bade  them  extend  an  invitation  to  any  one 
they  chose.  But  she  drew  a  long  breath  as  the 
door  closed,  and  Rex  could  not  help  observing 
the  grave  and  anxious  look  which  settled  upon 
her  face. 

"Well,  little  girl,"  said  he,  "you  have  your 
hands  full,  have  n't  you?" 

"  You  ought  to  be  able  to  help  me,  Rex."  She 
said  it  very  gently. 

A  flush  came  up  to  his  cheek.  But  he  an- 
swered in  even  a  graver  tone, — ^ 

"  Professor  Kinney  has  often  invited  me  to  join 


A  Sabbath  Evening,  215 

his  Bible  class,  at  the  Fourth  church, and  1  went 
to  -  day,  Anna.  Please  do  n't  mention  it  before 
Lute, —  or  1  do  n't  know  as  I  care,  either  !  I  'm 
sure  it's  the  last  thing  to  be  ashamed  of !  You 
may  depend,  if  you  like,  that  I  will  come  over 
and  help  you  in  every  way  I  can." 

As  Mrs.  Green  and  Mrs.  Petersham  were 
walking  across  the  Common  that  night,  the  latter 
said,  breaking  the  silence  when  they  were  nearly 
home, — 

"  I  do  n't  know  when  I  've  felt  so  good,  and  so 
old-fashioned,  as  I  do  to-night.  That  Anny 
May  lie  is  a  smart  girl,  is  n't  she  ?  " 

"  Wall,  she  is,  now.  How  plain  she  did 
make  it  seem  that  we  poor  folks  had  as  good  a 
right  to  the  Saviour  as  anybody  else ;  but  I  never 
thought  of  it  afore,  how  He  was  born  in  no  bet- 
ter place  than  our  houses,  and  maybe  not  so 
good, —  did  you  ?  " 

"No  'Lizabeth,  I  never  did  I  To  tell  the 
truth,    I   never   thought  much  about    Him  any 


216  Anna  May  lie, 

way.  But  I  'm  just  going  to  read  them  chapters 
over  for  myself  this  blessed  night,  if  I  can  find 
the  Testament  anywhere.  You  know  Anny  had 
him  read  two  different  ones.  And  I  did  ache  to 
ask  why  it  was  called  wise  men  in  one,  and 
shepherds  in  the  other,  and  if  it  was  two  differ- 
ent sets  of  men." 

"  How  foolish  you  was !  Why  did  n't  you 
ask?  Next  time,  I  should  just  make  free.  Say, 
what  d'  you  think  ?  —  I  'm  going  to  ask  Miss 
Harris  to  go." 

"That's  so!  —  and  there's  Miss  Tyler  and 
Jane  !  Why,  we  can  get  out  a  real  company, 
and  how  good  it  will  seem  !  " 

"'Twill  make  Sunday  seem  more  like  what 
they  orter  be,  anyhow." 


CHAPTEE  Xiy. 

AMONG  THE  WEEDS. 

HAT  possesses   you,  Anna  May- 
lie,   to   stand    out   there   in  that   hot 


pile  where  he  stood   splitting  wood  in 
the  shade  of  an  old  apple  -  tree. 

She  smiled,  and  came  over  to  the  fence.     How  • 
shadowy  and  cool  it  was   there  under   the   trees  ! 
They  were  fruit-trees,  aged,  mossy,   half  dead, 
but  they  served  a  purpose   still,  for  they  kindly 
sheltered  and  toned  down  the  poverty  and  ruin  of 


218  Anna  Maylie* 

the  houses  and  the  fences  they  grew  among,  un- 
til that  corner  of  Morristown  Common  was  not 
destitute  of  the  picturesque  to  the  eye  of  an  ar- 
tist, although  it  would  have  sorely  fretted  the  eye 
of  a  practical  real  estate  agent,  or  an  orderly 
fruit  -  grower. 

Rex  came  up  to  the  fence,  laughing.  "I've 
been  watching  you  over  there  all  this  last  hour, 
Anna ;  and  I  never  did  see  anybody  look  quite  so 
cross.     What  is  the  matter?  " 

She  turned  away  from  him  with  something  of 
the  expression  he  had  named.  "  Morristown 
Common  is  the  matter.  Our  place,  your  place, 
and  all  the  neighbor's  places  !  I  never  did  see 
such  a  spot ; —  the  sun  beats  down  just  like  a  sea 
of  fire  on  that  great  dusty  green,  and  the  weeds, 
and  the  bushes,  and  the  thistles,  and  the  whole 
tangled  breadth  of  the  land  here  is  so  hot  and  so 
dreadful ! " 

"  Well,  it  is  rather  like  a  jungle,  that's  so. 
But  why  need  you  look  so  cross  over  it  ?     You 


Among  the   Weeds.  219 

don't  think  you 're  responsible  for  it,  I  hope?" 
"No,  I  suppose  not.  And  yet,  Rex,  I  can't 
get  rid  of  a  feeling  that  I  am, —  that  in  some  way 
Morristown  Common  is  to  be  my  especial  work. 
I  feel,  sometimes,  until  I  am  perfectly  wild,  that 
I  shall  yet  have  to  turn  over  every  foot  of  land 
there  is  here,  and  tear  down  these  old  houses  and 
build  new  ones.  I  believe  I  am  going  to  be  sick, 
or  something,  Eex,  for  my  feelings  are  so  per- 
fectly unaccountable  and  absurd  !  " 

"  Oh  no,  Anna !  I  should  much  more  think 
you  had  just  been  off  up  -  town  walking  every 
handsome  street  in  the  place.  I  suppose  you 
think  you  keep  that  precious  recreation  of  yours 
all  to  yourself;  but  I've  seen  you  pacing  along 
many  a  time  by  one  nice  house  after  another,  and 
looking  as  if  you  could  eat  the  gardens.  What 
ails  you,  Anna  Maylie,  anyway?" 

For  she  had  gone  back  several  steps,  and  was 
standing  among  the  weeds,  again  looking  around 
her  with  that  far  -  off,    set  look  upon  her  face. 


220  Anna  Maylie. 

Suddenly  she  turned  and  spoke  out  with  an  en- 
ergy that  almost  startled  him  : 

"  Eex,  I  believe  I  could  do  it !  " 

"Do  what?" 

"I  believe  I  could  myself  cultivate  this 
land." 

Eex  laughed  immoderately.  "  I  dare  say.  I 
suppose  girls'  muscle  is  a  very  superior  article ; 
only  as  yet  it  has  not  been  brought  into  market 
extensively.  I  should  very  much  like  to  hear 
your  plans,  Anna,  in  detail.  Let  me  see.  There 
is  about  three  and  a  half — no,  about  four  acres. 
I  suppose  as  you  have  had  no  experience  with 
plows  and  horses,  and  as  there  is  so  small  a  sur- 
face to  go  over,  you  will  prefer  to  spade  it  up 
by  hand.     Is  that  what  you  propose  ?  " 

It  was  so  hard  in  the  first  faint  flush  of  her 
dawning  purpose  for  Anna  to  hear  his  merciless 
ridicule.  She  looked  reproachfully  at  him  and 
turned  away.  The  more  truth  his  words  con- 
tained, the  harder  they  were  to  bear.     Of  course, 


Among  the    Weeds,  221 

plowing  would  have  to  be  the  very  first  thing 
done ;  of  course,  it  was  the  only  way  in  which 
the  sod  and  weeds  could  be  turned  under.  She 
had  not  thought  of  that.  She  had  been  thinking 
only  of  the  deep,  mellow  soil  of  the  old  Clemmer 
gardens  where  she  had  worked  easily  for  hours. 

Rex  was  sorry  for  what  he  had  done.  He 
shielded  the  bent  head  of  the  weeping  girl  from 
Lute's  observation,  and  said,  very  gently, — 

"I  did  n't  mean  to  make  fun  of  you,  Anna; 
only  your  ideas  always  take  away  a  fellow's 
breath  so  I  And  this  time  —  well  —  what  did 
you  mean,  any  way,  Anna?" 

"  I  do  n't  mean  anything,  now,  if  the  land 
must  first  be  plowed  ;  but,  O  Rex,  I  had  a  great 
flash  of  what  might  be  done  here,  — just  for  a 
moment !  " 

"I  should  like  to  hear  what  it  was,  Anna. 
There  might  be  something  in  it  after  all ;  there 
always  has  been  something  in  your  plans,  1  re- 
member." 


222  Anna  Maylie. 

**Well,  then,  it  was  strawberries,"  Anna  said, 
humbly.  "  There  is  nothing  at  all  on  our  land, 
and  it  might  all  be  used  for  just  strawberries. 
And  I  '11  tell  you  how  I  looked  at  it,  Rex.  If  I 
can  work  so  well  for  Johnson,  why  might  n't  I 
do  something  for  myself?  Instead  of  picking  a 
quart  of  the  Clemmer  strawberries  for  two  cents, 
why  might  n't  I  raise  the  berries  and  pay  some- 
body else  two  cents  for  picking  mine,  and  then 
sell  the  quart  and  have  twenty  -  eight  cents  my- 
self, instead  of  two?  Johnson  said  he  could 
take  thirty  cents  for  every  quart  they  had  in  the 
garden." 

"  Yes,   I  suppose  he   could.     But  you  are  a 

girl." 

"Yes,  a  poor  girl,  too.  So  much  the  more 
need  then  of  my  getting  hold  of  a  business  with 
money  in  it  —  sh  ! " 

For  right  upon  them  was  Miss  Mansfield. 
She  had  come  in  through  Anna's  open  gate  and 
had    made    her   way   toward   them    unobserved. 


Among  the    Weeds.  223 

She  smilingly  reached  out  her  hand  for  Anna's, 
and,  while  she  took  and  kept  it,  bowed  to  Rex. 
"  Mr.  Rexford  Palmer,  I  think,"  she  said,  easily 
waiving  all  introductions.  "You  ought  to  be 
very  glad  to  see  me,  Anna,  for  I  have  w^alked  a 
mile  in  the  sun  to  reach  you.  I  thought  of  your 
courage,  working  among  the  berries  so  many 
such  days  as  this." 

"  Under  the  circumstances  I  did  n't  find  it  so 
unpleasant.  I  really  thing  it  is  hotter  here.  I 
know  you  must  need  to  sit  down  and  rest.  I  am 
glad  to  see  you,  Rachel." 

She  took  Miss  Mansfield  over  home.  The 
bare  little  room,  almost  empty  as  it  was,  and 
shaded  and  protected  by  so  many  old  trees,  was 
refreshingly  dark  and  cool ;  and  Anna  liked  the 
way  Rachel  laid  aside  her  hat  and  sat  down  in 
her  mother's  rocking  -  chair.  How  sweet  and 
simple,  too,  was  her  manner  of  accepting  the 
glass  of  water,  and  the  old,  worn,  palm  -  leaf  f'an 
which  Anna  brought  her. 


224  Anna  Maylie, 

"  You  never  come  and  see  me,"  she  said,  as 
she  leaned  back,  and  idlj  rocked  with  such  a 
pleasant  appearance  of  resting  ;  "  so  I  am  obliged 
to  come  round  once  in  a  while  to  get  roused  and 
shaken  up.  I  find  that  simply  giving  money  to 
hire  the  work  done  is  nothing  like  being  the  ac- 
tual  doer.  I  felt  quite  certain  you  would  be  at 
work.  I  wish  it  might  prove  to  be  something  of 
which  I  could  take  half  to  do." 

Anna  smiled  brightly,  almost  mischievously. 
"  Of  the  only  good  I  am  conscious  of  having  done, 
you  did  half,  Rachel.  Rex  is  studying  your 
books." 

"You  found  me  out,  did  you?  Well,  do  you 
know,  I  thought,  as  I  stood  looking  at  him,  that 
my  books  were  honored  ?  How  fine  looking  he 
has  grown  !  I  often  hear  Prof.  Kinney  speak  of 
him.  He  thinks  him  the  most  promising  young 
man  in  the  school." 

"Oh,  can  that  be  so?  Well,  I  shouldn't 
know,  of  course.     I  believe  he  studies  half  the 


Among  the    Weeds,  225 

night  sometimes.  He  has  really  resolved  to  be 
somebody." 

"  I  never  have  forgotten,  Anna,  that  he  was 
an  answer  to  your  prayers  ;  and  so  I  have  often 
directly  asked  both  Mrs,  Eanney  and  her  hus- 
band about  him.  They  pointed  him  out  to  me 
in  the  garden  once,  so  that  I  have  always  known 
him  when  I  have  passed  him  on  the  street.  Pro- 
fessor Kinney  says  that  he  attends  church  regu- 
larly. He  has  good  friends  in  both  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  Kinney.  Mrs.  Kinney  has  quite  a  pen- 
chant  for  looking  out  her  husband's  promising 
pupils.  But  now,  won't  you  tell  me  what  you 
are  doing?  These  bright  braids  cover  a  busy 
brain,  I  well  know." 

Anna  answered  the  old  answer,  and  as  gravely 
as  ever,—  *'  I  have  nothing  to  tell,  Rachel." 

"  I  understand.  That  is  you.  You  never 
place  any  value  on  your  work,  or  seem  to  com- 
prehend that  you  are  doing  any.  So  let  me 
change   my   question   a   little.     What  is  it  you 


226  Anna  May  lie. 

would  like  to  do  ?  I  really  wish  you  to  tell  me.  I 
myself  have  grown  very  practical ;  and  how  do 
you  know  but  God  has  really  sent  me  to  help 
you,  Anna?  " 

She  said  this  so  sweetly  and  so  earnestly  that 
Anna  remained  in  silence,  wondering  at  the 
change  which  the  grace  of  God  had  wrought  in 
the  haughty  Rachel  Mansfield  ;  and  then,  an  irre- 
sistible impulse  came  over  her  to  lay  her  crude 
plans  before  Eachel ;  though  what  the  wealthy 
and  cultivated  Miss  Mansfield  could  know  of 
raising  strawberries  would  be  of  doubtful  use. 

She  made  no  preface, — Anna  May  lie  never 
did, —  but  said,  abruptly, —  "  I  certainly  need  to 
talk  to  somebody,  but  I  think  it  is  Miss  Clemmer 
instead  of  you.  Yet  you  are  so  kind,  Rachel, 
that  I  will  tell  you  what  I  have  been  thinking. 
But  remember  that  I  do  n't  expect  you  to  be  very 
much  interested.  Indeed,  I  do  n't  suppose  it  is 
possible  for  it  to  seem  to  you  as  it  does  to  me. 
It  certainly  won't  seem  to  you  to  be  direct  work 


Among  the    Weeds,  2^7 

for  the  honor  and  glory  of  Jesus,  and  it  does  to 
me." 

And  Anna  realized  so  vividly  what  a  vast  leap 
any  one  except  herself  must  take  from  the  simple 
means  to  reach  the  glorious  end,  that  she  hesi- 
tated, and  then  stopped.  But,  urged  by  Rachel's 
face,  which  fully  expressed  her  attention  and  in- 
terest, Anna  resumed, — 

"  I  just  want  to  set  out  all  father's  land  to 
strawberries,  and  raise  strawberries  to  sell." 

There  the  bare  fact  was,  divested  of  all  Anna's 
dreams  of  doing  good  with  the  money  the  berries 
would  bring.  What  would  Rachel  say  of  it? 
Anna  waited,  with  downcast  eyes  and  crimson 
cheeks. 

After  a  long  time,  Rachel  said, —  "You  are 
very  enterprising,  Anna.  But  is  it  practicable  ? 
I  myself  am  not  accustomed  to  any  such  large 
plans." 

"  It  is  that  which  I  do  n't  know,"  Anna  an- 
swered.     "Rex   says   the   ground  must   all   be 


228  Anna  Maylie. 

plowed.  That  discouraged  me,  for  I  have  neither 
horses  nor  money :  yet  he  says  it  must  be 
plowed." 

"I  should  think  it  must  be  plowed,  Anna.  I 
should  think  a  great  deal  would  have  to  be  done 
to  fit  the  soil  for  your  labors,  Anna.  Your 
friend  Rex,  — does  he  understand  agriculture?  " 

"  I  can't  tell ;  you  never  can  be  sure  what  he 
do  n't  know." 

"  Suppose  we  go  out  and  look  at  this  land, 
Anna,  and  then  talk  with  your  friend  ?  " 

It  was  a  great  place  to  take  Rachel  Mansfield 
into,  Anna  knew,  but  there  was  no  alternative, 
for  she  was  already  half  way  round  the  house. 
They  walked  a  short  distance  up  the  lot,  but  the 
heavy  growth  of  tall  weeds  was  too  forbidding. 
What  a  repellant  growth  it  was,  of  burdocks, 
thistles,  mulleins,  and  nameless  others,  with 
coarse  stem  and  crude  leaf,  ready  to  stain,  or 
eting,  Rachel  felt,  as  she  surveyed  the  crowded 
waste.     She  never   realized  before  that  Nature 


Among  the    Weeds,  229 

had  any  such  repugnant,  reptile  growth  of 
green. 

Standing  there,  shading  her  eyes  from  the  sun, 
her  dainty  dress  gathered  up  in  her  hand,  and 
her  fine,  tucked,  snowy  skirts  hekl  carefully 
back,  how  out  of  place  Eachel  looked  I  And 
as  Anna  gazed  at  her,  and  then  at  the  weeds 
around  them,  she  thought  what  a  distance  it  was 
yet  up  to  comfort  and  refinement. 

"  Never  mind  about  going  any  farther,"  Rachel 
said  ;  "  I  can  see  from  here.  The  land  has  a  nice 
southern  slope,  and  I  know  that  I  have  heard 
Williams  speak  of  that  in  connection  with  straw- 
berries. I  think  it  very  probable  that  the  place 
might  be  made  to  yield  hundreds  of  dollars ;  but 
you,  poor  child,  how  could  you  do  it?" 

Anna  answered  promptly. 

"I  could  manage  acres,  if  I  could  have  them  in 
the  shape  Miss  Clemmer's  is  ; —  if  the  land  was 
mellowed  and  ready,  if  I  was  once  over  the  start, 
you  know. 


230  Anna  May  lie. 

"  Suppose  we  consult  your  neighbor  before  we 
go  on,"  Eachel  suggested.  She  passed  to  the 
fence  and  beckoned  Rex.  She  said  without  any 
preliminaries,  — "I  think  well  of  Anna's  plans. 
I  could  help  her,  I  think,  if  I  knew  what  were 
the  first  steps  to  be  taken.  Can  you  tell  us  what 
must  be  done  here  before  the  land  is  ready  for  the 
plants?" 

"  I  think  I  can.  It  was  only  a  short  time  ago 
that  I  heard  Professor  Kinney  and  Mr.  Clem- 
mer's  gardener  discussing  the  best  method  of  pre- 
paring grounds  for  strawberries.  Johnson  would 
gay,  drain  it  first,  but  the  English  are  always 
draining  ;  and  unless  Anna  cares  particularly  for 
high  farming  theories,  which  I  guess  she  do  n't, 
I  should  say  let  that  go  ;  for  the  present  at  least. 
If  the  crops  show  the  need  of  draining,  it  can  be 
done  at  any  time.  The  land  should  be  plowed 
thoroughly,  cross -plowed.  Professor  Kinney 
would  say,  and  after  that  it  will  need  harrowing 
repeatedly." 


Among  the    Weeds,  231 

"  No  fertilizers  ?  "  queried  Anna. 

"No;  that  is,  unless  you  can  get  muck,  and 
decayed  leaves,  or  something  of  that  kind ;  but  it 
never  has  been  cropped  heavily ;  and  if  the  weeds 
had  been  kept  down,  I  believe  it  would  be  nearly 
as  rich  as  forest  mold.  See ! "  He  reached 
over  and  pulled  up  a  weed,  and  the  soil  did  look 
black  and  mellow. 

"  I  see.  It  seems  then  that  the  preliminary 
work  is  work  which  can  be  hired  without  Anna 
having  any  of  the  labor  or  care.  Thank  you, 
Mr.  Eex ;  and  I  am  the  more  encouraged  about 
Anna's  plan  because  she  has  so  intelligent  a 
neighbor  for  reference  and  advice." 

She  turned  back  to  the  house,  and  her  manner 
now  was  confident.  "  Well,  Anna,  it  is  nothing 
so  very  difficult,  or  so  deeply  scientific,  after  all. 
I  can  see  nothing  to  prevent  you  from  at  least 
giving  your  plan  a  trial  if  your  father  is  willing 
that  you  should  use  the  land." 

Anna  simply   gazed   at   her.     " '  She   can   see 


232  Anna  Maylie, 

nothing  to  prevent,'  she  says  !  And,  of  course, 
there  would  n't  be  anything  to  prevent  her  !  And 
I  suppose,  too,  it  is  nothing  strange  that  she 
never  thinks  that  I  have  n't  any  money  to  pay  for 
those  easily  arranged  preliminaries  which  she 
speaks  of.  Money,  of  course,  would  be  the  last 
thing  lacking  with  her." 

Meantime  Eachel  quietly  proceeded.  "I 
should  suppose  also  that  you  need  to  ascertain 
the  proper  time  for  setting  the  plants,  and  then 
you  can  procure  them  by  the  quantity.  But 
I  shall  reserve  to  myself  that  part  of  the  labor 
which  consists  in  furnishing  the  men  and  horses 
to  do  the  work  of  which  we  have  just  been  talk- 
ing with  Rex. —  No,  I  shall  not  permit  you  to 
refuse  me  !  It  need  never  become  a  burden  of 
obligation  to  you  ;  you  may  regard  it  as  a  loan, 
if  you  really  prefer  to  do  so.  When  the  business 
becomes  profitable,  and  you  would  not  miss  the 
sum,  I  shall  be  glad  to  have  you  place  it  in  the 
hands  of  some  one  in  need  of  a  small  capital.'* 


Among  the    Weeds.  233 

She  rose  to  go,  and  much  more  earnestly  than 
she  had  yet  spoken,  she  added,  —  "  There  must 
be  many  items  to  learn  in  order  to  make  any 
business  a  success, —  to  make  it  a  paying  busi- 
ness. Now,  I  am  not  able  to  advise  you  as  to 
details,  but  you  will  need  to  inform  yourself 
thoroughly.  You  will  see  me  again  soon ;  and 
now,  good  bye."  She  just  stopped  a  moment  to 
look  at  the  bewildered  face,  and  then,  with  a 
smile,  was  gone. 

"  Yes,  she  was  gone,  and  without  one  word  of 
acknowledgment  or  of  thanks,  Anna  knew  very 
well.  She  sat  down  in  the  rocking  -  chair  from 
which  Eachel  had  just  risen,  and  tried  to  realize 
all  that  had  been  said  to  her.  Her  heart  -  ache 
over  the  poverty  and  pain  of  life  had  been  so 
hard  and  long,  that  she  felt  as  if  she  was  struck 
blind  and  dumb  when  the  window  in  heaven  did 
open. 

She  did  not  know  how  long  she  had  been  sit- 
ting there,   when  she  heard  the   gate  open,  and 


234  Aima  Maylie, 

saw  Rachel  coming  back.  She  sprang  up,  but 
Kachel  quietly  sat  down  in  the  chair  by  the  door. 
"  I  believe,  Anna,  that  I  must  have  a  talent  akin 
to  yours  lying  dormant,  for  a  thought  quite 
worthy  of  yourself  came  to  me  as  I  was  walking 
home,  and  with  an  impulsive  energy  which  is 
also  like  yours,  I  have  hastened  back  to  you  with 
it.  Is  it  wise  to  use  all  your  land  for  straw- 
berries at  once  ?  I  have  heard,  —  at  least  I  have 
come  in  possession  of  the  idea  by  some  means,  — 
that  strawberries  need  new  ground  every  two 
or  three  years.  Would  it  not  be  better,  then, 
to  devote  a  portion  of  the  land  to  a  vegetable 
garden  for  the  family  ?  I  know  that  most  fam- 
ilies consume  quantities  of  vegetables.  But  I 
merely  toss  the  idea  over  to  you,  Anna ;  you 
may  be  able  to  make  something  of  it,  perhaps. 
If  you  decide  to  do  so,  remember  that  Wil- 
liams will  supply  you  with  seeds  and  roots. 
I  am  really  gone  this  time,"  she  added  as  she 
closed  the  gate. 


Among  the   Weeds, 


235 


She  had  come  and  gone  so  swiftly  indeed 
that  Anna  might  have  doubted  her  senses, 
had  not  the  new  vision  of  prosperity  and 
comfort  which  she  had  left  behind  her  remained 
fio  vivid. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

ANOTHER   SABBATH   EVENING. 

FEEL  very  undecided  just  what 
to  do  with  those  little  creatures  that  are 
coming  here  to-night,"  said  Anna, 
thoughtfully.  "They  need  quite  a  dif- 
ferent style  of  teaching  from  what  I  ever  had.  I 
was  a  large  girl  when  I  first  went  to  Sabbath 
school,  you  know.  What  do  you  think  about  it, 
Eex?" 

"  I  have   been   considering   this  very    thing," 
he  answered.     "  To  make    such  little  beings  real- 


Another  Sahhath  Evening,  237 

ize,  and  )hiiik  about  any  fact  which  is  totally  dif- 
ferent fiom  anything  they  ever  saw,  needs  a 
genius.  And  the  little  things  are  all  so  igno- 
rant, too  !  What  have  you  thought  of  doing?  " 

"  I've  been  hesitating.  I  have  n't  known 
whether  to  take  one  of  the  simplest  of  the  Bible 
stories,  or  to  give  them  a  short  sentence  from  the 
words  of  Jesus  to  learn  by  heart.  I  have  thought 
I  might  be  able  to  illustrate  these  little  sentences 
by  something  the  children  had  themselves  done 
or  seen.  I  have  thought  that  even  little  Ginnie 
Petersham  could  be  made  to  understand  what  is 
meant  by  *Love  your  enemies,' and  '  He  shall 
reward  every  man  according  to  his  works,'  *I 
am  the  Good  Shepherd  ;'  and  I  do  n't  know  but  I 
could  even  draw  a  lesson  which  they  could  under- 
stand from  '  The  very  hairs  of  your  head  are  all 
numbered.' " 

"I  don't  see  how ;  but  I  suppose  you  do." 
"Yes,  I  think  I  do.     I  have   tried  so  hard  not 
to  worry  about  the  teaching.     What  was  it  Jesua 


238  Anna  Maylie. 

said?  *It  sli all  be  given  you  in  that  same  hour 
what  ye  shall  speak ;'  and  I  can  not  but  think  it 
was  meant  for  those  just  like  myself,  who  are 
fearful  about  their  success  when  they  are  called 
to  work  for  Jesus.  *  It  shall  be  given  you  in  that 
same  hour  what  ye  shall  speak.'  The  occasion 
seems  very  small  to  call  for  the  great  comfort  of 
such  a  text ;  and  I  do  n't  know  why  I  should  feel 
that  I  need  it  so  ;  yet  the  verse  keeps  whispering 
itself  in  my  ear." 

Rex  gazed  thoughtfully  down.  "It  shall  be 
given  you."  There  were  no  doubts,  no  condi- 
tions. It  was  a  strong,  simple  "  shall."  Why 
should  he,  too,  not  lean  upon  the  promise  which 
bore  Anna  so  firmly? 

"  What  are  you  going  to  do  with  the  mothers  ?" 
he  asked. 

"I  do  n't  think  I  shall  need  to  do  anything 
with  them,  Rex.  Sunday  schools,  or  anything 
in  their  likeness,  are  not  an  old  story  with  them. 
I   do  n't   think  we  shall   need    to  study  how  to 


Another  Sabbath  Evening,  239 

keep  the  mothers  interested.  If  we  can  only  in- 
terest the  children,  we  are  safe.  Is  n't  that  father 
and  Jacky  with  Hon.  Dennis  ?  " 

"  Oh  !  is  he  riding  after  that  horse  again  ?  " 
exclaimed  her  mother  going  to  the  door,  and 
looking  anxiously  after  them ;  and  she  and  Anna 
both  watched  them  as  they  dashed  across  the 
Common. 

The  two  large  men  crowded  the  small,  high 
buggy,  and  Jacky  was  behind  in  the  bit  of  shal- 
low box,  keeping  in  and  hanging  on  as  well  as 
he  could.  They  were  almost  afraid  they  should 
see  him  whirled  out.  They  could  hear  him 
laugh,  and  they  saw  him  look  back,  and  shake 
bis  fist  at  little  Jim,  who  was  slowly  coming  up 
the  walk,  crying. 

Anna  went  out  and  tried  to  soothe  him  and  get 
him  in.  She  endeavored  to  console  him  with  the 
idea  of  being  at  her  Sunday  school.  "  Mary,  and 
Min,  and  Ginnie,  and  Agnes,  are  all  going  to  be 
here  again ;  had   you    forgotten  it  ?    Other  little 


240  Anna  Maylie, 

girls  are  coming  too,  and  you  shall  stay  and  be 
sister's  good  boy." 

"No,  no.  Jacky  ain't,  and  I  do  n't  want  to  be 
no  better  boy  than  Jacky.  Jacky  ain't  a  good 
boy,  and  he  has  a  good  time.  I  won't  be  at  your 
Sunday  school,  so  !  "  and,  sobbing  louder  than 
ever,  he  pulled  away  from  her, 

"  You  have  forgotten,  then,  how  nice  it  was  to 
sing  ^  Happy  Land  ?  '  and  to  stand  up  in  a  row 
and  say  over  those  pretty  verses  that  sister  learns 
at  her  Sunday  school  ?  " 

"  I  won't  do  it,"  he  persisted  between  his  sobs. 
"  Mebbe  I  would  though,  only  Jacky  says  it's 
soft.     Jacky  says  you  're  soft,  too." 

Rex  came  out,  and  they  both  tried  to  paint 
afresh  the  pleasure  of  hearing  so  many  children 
sing,  and  finally  his  sobs  ceased.  By  degrees  he 
followed  Anna  inside  the  gate,  and  at  last  asked, 
slowly, — "  If  I  would  come  in,  could  I  take  one 
of  your  Sunday  -  school  books,  and  have  your 
parasol  up  ?  " 


Another  Sahhath  Evening,  241 

Glad  to  secure  him  upon  any  conditions,  she 
brought  him  in,  and  seated  him  by  Rex,  with  her 
raised  parasol  in  one  hand,  and  a  pictorial  volume 
of  Biblical  Antiquities  in  the  other. 

From  the  window  by  which  she  sat,  Anna  had 
a  view  of  nearly  all  the  houses  on  the  Common ; 
and  as  it  grew  near  sunset,  she  became  aware  of 
an  unusual  stir.  She  could  hear  mothers  calling 
their  children  in  from  their  play  on  the  green,  and 
she  and  Rex  witnessed  many  an  amusing  chase 
after  some  tiny,  bare—  legged  mite,  who  was  more 
refractory  than  the  rest,  and  who  had  no  relish 
for  the  unusual  washing  and  combing.  A  little 
later,  and  they  could  see  Mrs.  Fish  and  her  two 
children  coming  out,  and  going  down  to  Mrs, 
Petersham's ;  Mrs.  Fish  had  put  on  the  crimson 
crepe  shawl  which  she  had  brought  over  from 
England ;  Anna  had  often  been  shown  it,  but 
she  had  never  seen  it  worn  before.  Mrs.  Peters- 
ham and  Ginnie  met  them  in  the  door  -  yard,  and 
Anna  could  discern   that  she,    although   it  was 


242  Anna  Maylie, 

summer  and  her  neighbor  was  wearing  crape,  had 
wrapped  herself  in  the  folds  of  her  double  broche, 
which  had  been  left  her  by  her  mother.  She  had 
also  donned  the  leghorn  bonnet  which  was  of  a 
long  past  fashion,  but  still  kept  for  best.  Around 
one  house  and  another,  where  Anna  least  expected 
it,  there  were  the  same  significant  signs,  until  it 
was  no  difficult  matter  to  discover,  from  this 
token  and  that,  that  this  little  gathering  was  a 
great  event  to  the  entire  neighborhood.  She  saw 
the  rooms  were  going  to  be  full,  and  tried  to  set- 
tle how  many  their  chairs  would  accommodate, 
how  many  could  sit  on  the  side  of  the  bed,  and 
how  many  on  the  lounge.  She  shook  her  head 
doubtfully,  and  turned  to  Eex.  He  knew  of 
course,  and  he  made  it  the  work  of  but  a  few 
moments  to  improvise  a  couple  of  capacious  seats 
by  means  of  boards  and  blocks. 

But  just  at  dark,  as  she  saw  group  after  group 
of  women  and  their  little  ones  leave  their  homes 
and  cross   the    common,    she  was  seized    afresh 


Another  Sabbath  Evening,  243 

with  tlie  fear  that  she  might  not  be  able  to  justi- 
fy the  expectations  they  had  formed.  She  again 
strengthened  herself  with  the  promise,  "And  it 
shall  be  given  you  in  that  hour  what  ye  shall 
speak."  Rising  to  welcome  them,  she  resolved 
again  and  again  in  her  mind,  an  evident  duty,— - 
a  duty  which  she  did  not  even  for  one  moment 
wish  she  could  omit,  but  which  the  presence  of 
Rex  and  her  mother  made  very  hard. 

She  met  the  people  with  an  easy  greeting,  but 
their  manner  was  constrained  and  hushed.  The 
Mrs.  Green    and  the  Mrs.  Petersham  of  to  -  nioht 

o 

were  very  different  from  the  Mrs.  Green  ard  the 
Mrs.  Petersham  of  the  Sunday  evening  before. 
They  had  all  evidently  come  to  "  meeting."  She 
could  not  help  feeling,  however,  that  she  would 
more  easily  and  successfully  have  taught  the 
neighbors  who  ran  in  so  familiarly  last  Sabbath 
evening,  with  shawls  thrown  over  their  heads, 
than  this  formal  assembly.  She  tried  to  feel 
willing  to  labor  in  the  Lord's  way,    not  her  own  ; 


244  Anna  Maylie, 

and  as  she  passed  to  and  fro  among  the  people, 
arranging  the  lights,  and  making  the  children 
comfortable,  she  breathed  a  constant  prayer, — 
"Lord,  make  me  equal  to  Thy  work;"  for  here 
before  her,  at  last,  was  the  literal  work  for  Je- 
sus for  which  she  had  longed  and  prayed. 

Delaying  only  until  she  was  certain  of  her 
self-  possession,  she  took  her  seat  by  the  table, 
where  at  the  outer  end  sat  Rex.  She  had  made 
no  request,  but  as  the  room  grew  quiet,  he  said, 
in  an  easy  manner, — "  We  will  sing  the  children's 
favorite, — ^  Happy  Land,' — and  let  us  all  sing. 
Mrs.  Maylie,  won't  you  take  the  soprano  with 
the  children,  so  that  Anna  can  sing  alto?" 

And  they  did  all  sing,  if  not  before,  certainly 
by  the  time  they  came  to  the  last  verse. 

A  moment's  pause,  and  then  Anna  knelt  and 
lifted  her  voice  in  prayer.  The  sight  of  the  faith- 
ful young  girl  kneeling  in  their  midst,  touched 
the  heart  of  every  one  of  those  simple,  ignorant 
women,  and  it  was  so  still  that  her  words  could 


Another  Sahhath  Evening,  245 

easily  have  been  heard  out  on  the  walk.  And 
Anna  prayed  for  just  what  she  wanted.  She 
prayed  directly,  prayed  fervently.  She  prayed 
that  this  Sabbath  might  be  the  commencement  of 
years  and  years  of  blessed  Sabbaths  for  Morris- 
town  Common,  and  that  God  would  raise  Him- 
self up  a  people  among  them  ;  that  the  little  work 
begun  that  night  in  His  name,  might  grow  until 
a  day  came  when  a  church  should  rise  yonder  on 
the  green  ; —  and  her  voice  shook  as  some  woman 
who  had  been  a  professor  of  religion  in  other 
days,  res])onded  with  a  quivering  "Amen." 

Anna  had  thought  that  she  alone  had  knelt, 
but  as  she  rose,  to  her  indescribable  surprise,  she 
saw  Eex  rise  also.  Was  he  honoring  her,  or  her 
Master?  There  was  a  momentary  hush,  a  hush 
of  expectation.  As  she  was  about  to  speak.  Rex 
rose  to  his  feet^  and  said  in  a  voice  whose  very 
tremulousness  showed  how  earnest  and  how  brave 
he  was, — "  Perhaps  no  one  here  has  intended  it, 
but  as  the  large  number  present  shows  how  genu « 


246  Anna  May  He, 

ine  an  interest  there  is,  I  see  no  reason  why  we 
may  not  organize  ourselves  into  a  permanent  Sab- 
bath school.  There  are  so  many  of  us,  living,  as 
it  were,  within  the  sound  of  each  other's  voices, 
that  we  shall  be  able  to  hold  the  school  even 
through  the  stormiest  winter  weather.  To  be 
sure,  we  have  no  church,  no  minister;  but  these 
are  among  the  very  weightiest  reasons  why  we 
should  have  a  Sabbath  school.  We  need  some- 
where to  go,  where  we  can  learn  of  Jesus." 

The  voice  of  the  boy  trembled  more  and  more, 
as  he  pronounced  the  blessed  name,  and  the 
flush  which  was  on  his  face  when  he  rose  had 
died  away,  and  left  him  very  pale.  Pausing,  as 
if  to  more  deeply  consider  what  he  was  about  to 
say,  he  went  on  : 

"  I  have  just  found  Jesus,  neighbors ;  just 
found  my  Saviour ;  and  my  heart  burns  within 
me  to  lead  every  one  around  me  to  His  feet. 
Since  I  found  Him,  I  have  thought  of  nothing 
else.     I  have  looked  forward  to  this  little  gather- 


Another  Sabbath  Evening.  247 

ing  day  and  night,  and  prayed  that  it  might  be  a 
place  where  I  might  work  in  the  name  of  my 
Master.  I  am  only  an  ignorant  boy,  but  I  feel 
that  great  things  might  be  done  here,  in  the  name 
of  the  Lord  Jesus.  During  Anna's  prayer  I 
could  look  onward  through  the  coming  years, 
and  I  could  see  the  church  rise  on  the  Common, 
and  I  could  see  the  families  of  all  these  houses 
thronging  through  its  doors.  No,  mothers,  you 
will  not  then  be  alone  with  your  little  children, 
but  fathers  and  brothers  will  go  with  you  into 
the  courts  of  the  Lord." 

Eex  paused,  overcome  with  emotion.  He  saw 
Lute's  head  bent  in  weeping,  the  wondering  eyes 
of  his  neighbors  fixed  upon  him,  and  the  pale, 
pale  face  of  Anna  May  lie.  But,  boy  though  he 
was,  he  controlled  his  agitation.  He  went 
on  : 

"  Is  it  not  time  that  we  began  a  search  in 
earnest  for  the  way  which  leads  to  heaven  ?  Shall 
we  not  have,  at  last,  a    Sunday  school  on  Mor- 


248  Anna  Maylie. 

ristown  Common?  Let   all  those   in   favor  of  a 
Sunday  school,  rise." 

To  Anna  Maylie,  whose  rosy  cheeks  were  pale 
for  the  first  time  in  her  life,  the  room  seemed 
just  a  dense  mass  of  people.  The  Sabbath  school 
of  her  many  prayers  was  rising  before  her  and 
crystallizing  into  shape.  So  rapidly  had  it  aW 
come  about,  that  it  seemed  more  like  a  dream 
than  a  living  reality.  Could  it  be  that  Rex  had 
become  a  Christian  ?  How  had  the  change  been 
wrought,  and  when?  She  hushed  her  wonderings, 
for  should  she  shorten  the  arm  of  the  Almighty  ? 
She  felt,  as  she  had  never  felt  before,  that  God 
and  His  ways  were  infinitely  greater  than  her 
prayers  and  desires.  Wider  and  more  glorious 
than  all  her  prayers  had  been  all  heaven's  an- 
swers. 

"  Anna  and  myself  will  superintend    the  work 
for  the   present,"  Rex  was  saying,  in  a  clear,  de 
cided  voice.     "  A  gentleman  who  is  fully  compe 
tent  to  teach  and  lead  us  all,  was  talking  with  me 


Another  Sabbath  Evening,  249 

last  week,  about  the  probability  of  establishing  a 
School  here,  and  offered  to  come  and  help  us. 
But  I  thought  we  might  prefer  to  be  alone  by  our- 
selves, for  a  while  at  least." 

He  and  Anna  then  held  a  consultation  respect- 
ing the  organization  of  the  classes.  She  talked 
with  one  and  another,  to  learn  whether  they  pre- 
ferred to  listen  to  the  recitations  of  the  children, 
or  to  be  themselves  organized  into  a  Bible  class. 
There  was  some  looking  fi'om  one  to  the  other, 
with  an  e^^ident  embarrassment,  but  finally  a  gen- 
eral whispering  followed,  and  after  that,  Mrs. 
Green  expressed  their  conclusion  : 

"  We  thinks  as  how  we  ought  to  be  teached, 
more  nor  the  children,  if  anything." 

Bex  took  the  Bible  class,  and  Anna  called  the 
children  to  her.  There  were  eleven,  as  she 
found  upon  counting.  She  took  five  of  them  to 
her  mother.  ^'I  know,  dear  mother,  that  you  cao 
make  them  understand  who  it  was  that  took  little 
children  up  in  His  arms  and   blessed  them,   and 


250  Anna  Maylie, 

who  it  was  that  said,  *  Suffer  little  children  to 
come  unto  me.'  " 

Leaving  them  there,  in  spite  of  her  mother's 
hesitation,  she  took  the  remaining  six  to  another 
corner  of  the  room. 

But  the  little  verses  committed  to  memory  the 
Sabbath  evening  before,  and  so  faithfully  repeated 
ao^ain  and  ao^ain  through  the  week,  were  destined 
to  remain  unsaid  that  Sabbath  evening.  For 
just  then  a  rap  on  the  door  interrupted  the  simple 
services.  To  Anna's  astonishment,  it  was  Judge 
Mansfield.  She  was  struck  at  once  by  his  pale, 
grave  face,  as  he  stood  a  moment  without  speak- 
ing, and  through  the  half-  opened  door,  she 
caught  a  glimpse  of  a  carriage  drawn  up  at  the 
gate,  two  or  three  buggies  stopping  in  the  street, 
and  a  crowd  of  men  upon  the  walk.  At  one 
glance,  Mrs.  May  lie  comprehended  it  all.  Her 
quick  eye  had  defined  the  dark,  bier  -  like  ob- 
ject which  was  borne  among  the  crowd,  and  the 
same  peculiar  grouping  of  another  company,  a  few 


Another  Sahhath  Evening,  251 

steps  beyond.  She  needed  no  word  from  the 
Judge,  to  comprehend  it  all. 

"  Oh,  my  God  !  they  are  killed  !  they  are  both 
killed  !  let  me  go,  I  say  !  "  She  fled  past  the  de- 
taining hand  of  the  Judge.  Shudderingly,  Anna 
followed.  Rachel's  voice  called  to  her  from  the 
carriage, —  "  This  way,  Anna,  come  here, — 
not  there  !  do  n't  allow  her  to  go  there,  Rex  I 
Bring  her  to  me  !  "  But  she  made  her  way  to  her 
mother's  side.  The  awful  truth  was  just  dawning 
upon  her,  when  a  strong  arm  hurried  her  swiftly 
away  toward  the  carriage,  and  she  knew  not  how 
she  was  placed  inside,  and  Rachel's  arm  was 
around  her,  and  her  face  on  Rachel's  shoulder. 
Rex's  voice  sounded  in  her  ear.  "  See  that  you 
keep  her.  Miss  Mansfield ;  it  is  no  place  for 
her ! "  But  she  started  up,  and  would  have 
sprung  out.  "  Mother — mother  is  there  !  let  me 
go  to  poor  mother — how  could  I  have  left  her 
so!" 

Rachel  was  holding  the  restive  horses,  but  with 


252  Anna  A  fay  lie. 

one  arm  she  detained  her.  "  Eex  has  gone  for 
her,  too,  Anna ;  in  a  moment  she  will  be  here. 
Please  sit  down,  Anna,  or  you  W'ill  be  thrown 
out ; —  stand  still,  sir  !  "  There  was  indeed  dan- 
ger, for  the  horses  stood  champing  their  bits 
impatiently,  and  pawing,  and  every  now  and 
then,  in  spite  of  Eachel's  firm  voice  and  hand, 
they  violently  backed  the  carriage  several  steps, 
until  at  last  she  sprang  to  the  ground,  lines  in 
hand,  and  went  to  their  heads. 

Eex  hurried  back  for  Mrs.  Maylie ;  but  it 
was  of  no  use.  No  one  could  detain  her,  or  draw 
her  away,  or  hide,  or  in  the  least  degree  soften, 
the  truth.  She  was  swifter  than  they,  and  the 
men  fell  back,  and  turned  away  their  heads,  as 
with  a  frightful,  gurgling  cry,  she  threw  back  the 
blanket  that  covered  what  had  once  been  her 
little  Jacky,  trampled  out  of  every  semblance  to 
the  bright,  roguish  boy  she  had  loved  so  well. 

She  turned  away  with  uplifted  hands  — toward 
the  other  —  where   it   stood,    darkly  draped,  re- 


Another  Sahhath  Evening,  253 

vealing  the  long,  dim  outline  of  its  solemn  bur- 
den ;  but  she  could  not  go.  She  sank  helplessly 
down,  and  her  head  dropped  on  the  blanket 
which  they  had  pityingly  drawn  again  over  the 
crushed  and  bleeding  little  form.  The  low, 
heart-broken,  pitiful  weeping  pierced  every 
heart.  Anna  heard  it,  and  with  a  bitter  cry  she 
was  out  of  the  carriao;e  and  on  the  oround  at  her 
mother's  side,  with  her  arms  around  her. 

"  O  Mother  !  Mother  !  Mother  !" 

The  men  fell  back  in  silence.  The  yard  and 
door  -  way  were  darkened  with  the  hushed  crowd 
of  women  and  children ;  the  walk,  too,  was 
thronged.  Wiping  his  own  eyes,  Judge  Mans- 
field made  his  way  back  to  his  daughter.  She 
lifted  her  wet  face  from  Selim's  neck  as  he  came 
up.  listened  to  his  few  low  words,  and  then  fol- 
lowed him  back. 

Bnt  there  was  little  need  now  of  her  presence 
and  persuasions.  Mrs.  May  lie  silently  obeyed 
her   request,   and  Judge  Mansfield   led  the  poor 


254  Anna  Maylie. 

woman  away  and  placed  her  in  the  carriage, 
while  Rachel  followed  with  Anna  and  the  fright- 
ened little  brother.  Then  she  turned,  while  her 
father  was  giving  the  needful  orders  to  the 
men,  and  asked  Rex  to  call  his  sister.  To  them, 
in  a  low  tone,  she  gave  directions,  and  saying  that 
she  herself  would  come  around  with  the  house- 
keeper in  the  morning,  she  entered  the  carriage 
and  it  drove  away. 


The  tragedy  had  been  brief.  Both  men  had 
been  somewhat  intoxicated,  and  when  the  horse 
took  fright  upon  the  bridge,  neither  of  them  was 
capable  of  controlling  him,  and  he  had  plunged 
and  reared  until  he  had  thrown  them  all  from  the 
buggy.  Jacky  fell  in  such  a  manner  that  the 
horse  backed  the  buggy  directly  over  him,  and 
trampled  him  to  death.  The  pretty  black  tangle 
of  curls,  the  bright  eyes,  the  sun-  burned  cheek 
and  the  roguish  mouth  were  no  more  to  be  dis- 
tinguished,   as  they  clothed   him  in   his  last  gar 


A  Sabbath  Evening.  255 

ments,  and  sealed  him  out  of  sight  forever,  as  too 
sad  an  object  to  be  looked  upon  again  by  those 
who  loved  him.  Mr.  Maylie's  neck  must  have 
been  broken  by  the  fall,  as  he  was  tossed  over  the 
parapet,  many  feet  down  into  the  river.  How 
calm  and  noble  he  looked  in  his  last  sleep,  with 
the  dignity  of  death  resting  upon  brow  and 
breast !  And  as  Judge  Mansfield  gazed  sadly 
down  upon  him,  he  could  easily  recall,  in  the 
features  before  him,  the  brave  and  generous  Tom 
Maylie  of  other  days,  and  bitterly  he  regTetted 
that  he  had  so  carelessly  seen  his  old  friend  go 
down  the  drunkard's  path. 

Before  Hon.  Dennis  also  had  been  trampled 
to  death,  several  men  had  sprung  to  the  rescue, 
and  caught  the  horse  which  had  been  partially 
stopped  by  some  accidental  winding  of  the  lines 
around  the  wheel.  Judge  Mansfield  and  his 
daughter  were  returning  from  a  call  they  had 
been  making  upon  an  old  servant  of  the  family 
who  was  ill,  and  he   had  at    once  undertaken  the 


256  Anna  Maylie. 

char«2^e  of  conveying  the  bodies  back  to  him. 
But  let  me  cover  these  days  from  sight.  Every  - 
thing  which  could  be,  was  softened  for  Mrs. 
Maylie  and  Anna.  Judge  Mansfield  endeavored 
to  make  atonement  to  the  family  for  the  death  of 
the  man  whom  he  felt  that  he  perhaps  might  have 
saved.  The  expenses  of  the  funeral  he  defrayed, 
and  many  plans  and  resolves  for  the  benefit  of 
Mrs.  Maylie  and  her  children  followed  them  whea 
they  finally  returned  to  their  lonely  home. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 


CHANGES. 


HESE  sudden  bereavements  brought 
many  changes  to  the  Maylie  household, 
and,  strangest  of  all  perhaps,  to  the 
"2^ "  world  outside,  heavy,  heart  -  felt  sorrow  ; 
loi,  by  one  of  the  blessed  provisions  of  family 
love,  the  memory  of  poor  Tom  Maylie's  shiftless- 
ness,  his  carelessness  of  the  family's  comfort,  and 
his  dissipation  faded  from  the  thoughts  of  both 
Anna  and  her  mother.  I  think  they  both  finally 
came  to  remember  him  best  as  he  looked  that 
Sunday  night  when  he  sang  with  them,  —  Anna's 


258  Anna  May  He, 

only  glimpse  of  the  cultivated  man  her  mother 
had  loved  and  married.  There  were  many  hours 
when  Anna  dwelt  upon  the  sober  intervals,  and 
the  thoughtful  moods  which  she  had  noticed  in  his 
last  few  weeks,  —  upon  his  kinder  manner 
toward  them  all,  and  the  respect  which  he  mani- 
fested for  her  Sabbath  and  her  religion.  She 
prayed, —  she  could  not  help  it, —  that  the  Holy 
Spirit  might  have  been  busy  with  her  father's 
heart.  She  could  not  feel  that  this  was  wrong ; 
and  she  left  her  grief  and  hopes  with  Him  who 
doeth  all  things  well. 

Their  house  was  very  still  without  Jacky, — 
boisterous,  lawless  Jacky,  but  always  so  dear  and 
bright.  And  the  loneliness  of  little  Jim  touched 
her  heart  anew,  as  in  those  first  nights  he  would 
slip  from  his  low  bed  and  silently  creep  up  where 
both  she  and  her  mother  were  lying  awake,  think- 
ing of  the  dead.  Poor,  little,  gentle  Jim  !  He 
cared  not  much  now  for  the  favorite  street  cor- 
ners, and  the  games  on  the  Common,  or  any  of 


Changes,  259 

his  noisy  little  comrades.  It  was  better  to  go 
around  with  Anna.  The  awful  fact,  that  if  Jacky 
had  liked  to  be  good,  and  hadn't  been  afraid  of 
being  "  soft,"  and  had  stayed  to  his  sister's  Sunday 
school,  he  would  not  have  been  killed,  seemed  to 
sink  deep  into  his  heart. 

I  have  said  that  these  deaths  brought  changes 
to  the  May  lie  family.  And  they  were  changes 
for  the  better.  Judge  Mansfield  felt  no  idle  re- 
morse over  his  neglect  of  poor  Tom  Maylie  in  his 
downward  course,  and  Rachel  failed  not  to  inter- 
est him  in  Anna  and  her  plans.  Thus  it  was, 
that  when  the  Maylies  were  once  more  settled  in 
their  home,  he  came  over  to  the  Common  and 
held  a  long  conversation  with  Mrs.  Maylie  ;  and 
as  they  talked,  his  quick  eye  did  not  fail  to  notice 
the  various  privations  of  her  daily  life.  He  made 
a  long  story  of  old  Col.  Maylie's  kindness  to  him 
when  he  was  a  young  man  at  college.  He  fiiled 
not  to  impress  upon  her  mind  what  her  father  - 
in  -  law's  gift  of  a  small  law  -  library  was  to  him 


260  Anna  Maylie, 

ID  the  early  days  of  his  practice.  He  counted 
over  to  her  the  clients  Col.  May  lie  had  sent  him. 
And  then  he  said, —  "  I  am  honestly  in  debt  to 
him  to-day  two  hundred  dollars,  and  you 
must  allow  me  to  discharge  my  indebtedness  — 
to  you."  He  quietly  counted  out  the  money  and 
laid  it  on  the  table. 

After  advisino:  her  respecting  the  alteration 
necessary  to  render  her  house  more  comfortable, 
he  turned  to  Anna.  "  My  more  delicate  obliga- 
tions to  Miss  Anna's  grandfather  I  prefer  to 
discharge  to  Miss  Anna  herself."  And  although 
Bhe  could  answer  only  with  a  blush,  the  courtli- 
ness and  the  grave  deference  of  the  tone,  the 
bow,  the  smile,  made  each  word  a  lasting  remem- 
brance to  Colonel  Maylie's  humble  granddaugh- 
ter. Then,  in  a  few  delicately  -chosen  woids,  he 
made  her  aware  tjiat  he  was  interested  in  her 
experiment  with  the  land,  and  left  her  feeling 
that  she  had  a  new  and  powerful  friend, 

Neither  had  Rachel    been   idle;     and     Anna 


Changes,  261 

never  appreciated  her  sensible  advice  and  delicate 
kindn(5ss  as  she  did  on  the  Sabbath  following 
their  bereavement,  when  she  realized  that  she  was 
at  last  walking  to  church  with  her  mother  and 
little  brother  at  her  side,  and  that  it  was  Rachel 
whose  thoughtful  taste  had  ordered  everything. 
It  was  truly  as  Rachel  said  :  her  mother  looked 
*ike  a  lady  in  her  black  dress  and  heavy  widow's 
veil,  and  little  Jim,  in  his  new  suit,  neat  collar 
and  pretty  cap,  like  a  lady's  son.  Notwithstand- 
ing their  recent  sorrow,  she  had  a  quiet  confi- 
dence in  the  future,  and  her  faith  in  God's  wise 
purposes  concerning  His  children  was  strength- 
ened ;  for  even  through  the  gateway  of  the  dark 
valley  He  had  reached  her  a  blessing. 

"  Though  He  slay  me,"  she  said,  "  yet  will  I 
trust  in  Hina." 

The  next  week  was  a  great  week  for  the  peo- 
ple of  Morristown  Common.  The  women  sat  on 
their  door  -  steps,  and  met  at  their  gates,  to  talk 


262  Anna  May  lie. 

over  the  strange  doings  at  the  widow  Maylie's ; 
and  the  men,  as  they  went  down  town,  and  as 
they  came  back,  stopped  in  groups  to  gaze  at  the 
busy  workmen.  For  the  noise  of  a  saw  and  the 
blow  of  a  hammer  were  indeed  unusual  sounds  ; 
—  it  was  years  since  a  carpenter  had  been  seen  at 
work  on  Morristown  Common. 

One  set  of  men  were  busy  on  the  roof,  tearing 
off  the  shingles,  and  another  set,  with  Rex  Palmer 
at  the  head,  were  throwing  down  all  the  old 
fences  on  the  place.  Even  the  chimney  was  de- 
molished, and  the  few  boards  and  crazy  posts 
w^hich  had  constituted  a  wood  -  house  were  re- 
moved. But  the  disorder  and  debris  were  of 
short  continuance.  It  was  not  many  days  before, 
gaily  enough,  the  new  roof  shone  among  the  ma- 
ples, and  a  new  fence  rose,  length  by  length, 
until  the  entire  four  acres  were  spanned ;  while 
large  gate  and  small  gate,  both  with  handsome 
capped  posts,  contributed  their  share  to  the  respect- 
ability and  snugness  of  the  whole,  and  new  win- 


Changes,  263 

dow  casements  and  new  sashes  appeared  through- 
out the  house. 

A  week  passed,  and  then,  to  the  delight  of  the 
idlers,  there  was  a  fresh  sensation.  A  man  ap- 
peared with  horses,  plows  and  drags,  and  was 
soon  seen  at  work.  How  many  times  he  plowed 
the  land  became  a  matter  for  discussion,  and  the 
quantity  of  dragging  was  never  satisfactorily  set- 
tled ;  but  it  is  certain  that  three  -  fourths  of  it  was 
harrowed  and  re  -  harrowed  until  it  was  as  fine  as 
dust.  Finally,  it  was  trenched  off  into  great 
beds,  and  then  operations  ceased  again  for  a 
time. 

Meantime  Anna  had  had  her  sensation  ;  for  one 
morning  a  large  box  had  been  brought  up  by  the 
City  Delivery,  which  was  directed  to  her  in 
Kachel's  hand, —  she  knew  the  writing  this  time. 
It  was  Eachel's  present.  It  contained  a  complete 
set  of  gardening  tools, —  Anna  never  knew  how 
complete  until  she  had  worked  in  her  garden  for 
months,  and  found  among  the  set  a  tool  for  every 


264:  Anna    Maylie, 

possible  want  and  every  possible  grade  of  work. 
It  was  perfect,  from  the  heavy  spade  and  its  slen- 
derer mate,  down  through  rakes  and  queerly  - 
fashioned  hoes,  to  the  tiniest  weeding  -  hooks  and 
daintiest  pruning  -  scissors  ;  —  it  was  perfect. 
Anna  lifted  them  again  and  again  with  genuine 
delight.  There  were  many  tools  whose  names 
she  did  not  know,  many  varieties  of  knives  and 
shears  whose  particular  function  she  could  not  de- 
termine, and  many  curious  implements  whose  use 
she  could  not  even  guess  at ;  but  she  examined 
and  handled  each  one  with  equal  delight. 

At  last  a  new  season  of  work  was  begun.  For 
days  and  days,  Anna,  Rex,  and  Mrs.  Maylie  were 
to  be  seen  out  in  the  plowed  ground  which,  al- 
though not  a  spear  of  green  was  visible,  looked 
already  like  an  immense  garden, —  so  attractive 
were  the  great  beds  with  their  neat,  regular 
trenches.  There,  down  on  their  knees,  evidently 
at  work  at  something,  they  were  to  be  seen  reg- 
ularly, day  after  day.     Finally,  Mrs.  Green  went 


Changes,  265 

over  purposely  to  see,  and  she  reported  their  em- 
ployment to  be  "  settin'  out  strawberries,"  and 
"  my  goodness  !  "  she  exclaimed,  "  do  n't  you  think 
they  must  be  crazy  ?  Three  acres  of  strawberries  ! 
Why,  jest  Miss  May  lie,  and  Jim  and  Anny 
could  n't  eat  what  '11  grow  there  in  three  months , 
even  if  they  should  set  up  nights  !  " 

"  Anny's  a  smart  girl,  and  a  good  girl,  but  it's 
my  opinion  that  it's  that  thar  Rachel  Mansfield 
that 's  a  spilin'  of  her,"  was  Mrs.  Petersham's  only 
explanation  of  the  matter. 

But  however  easy  and  attractive  their  work 
might  have  seemed  to  the  neighbors,  those  days 
were  days  of  backache,  headache,  thirst,  and  in- 
describable weariness  ;  and  at  the  end,  when  the 
last  plant  was  set,  and  with  stiffened  fingers  and 
blistered  face  Anna  stood  gazing  at  their  work,  it 
looked  so  little  and  unpromising, —  merely  an  ex- 
panse of  ground  spotted  at  regular  intervals  with 
tufts  of  rusty  green, —  she  could  not  help  asking, 
Would  the  miracle   really    take   place?     Would 


266  Anna  Maylie, 

the  family  support,  the  comfort  and  the  respecta- 
bility she  had  longed  for  all  her  life,  and  money 
to  give  toward  the  blessed  work  of  Jesus  —  dol- 
lars instead  of  dimes  —  ever  rise  in  plenty  and  in 
beauty  from  the  bosom  of  that  dingy  field  ? 

After  this  change  at  the  May  lie's,  time  went 
swiftly  on.  The  Sunday  school  on  Morristown 
Common,  Rex  and  Anna's  school  as  it  every- 
where was  called,  grew  steadily  in  size,  in  inter- 
est, and  in  influence.  They  were  the  superin- 
tendents still ;  for  though  the  churches  stood 
ready  in  deep  sympathy  to  help  on  the  good 
work,  the  people  of  the  Common  clung  to  Eex 
and  Anna.  From  the  cloud  of  small  dwellings 
which  rested  upon  the  hillside  back  of  the  Com- 
mon, families  gradually  began  to  gather  at  the 
school,  and  here  and  there  among  them  was  a  man 
or  woman  who  knew  Jesus,  and  who  studied  His 
Word,  and  from  their  number  the  children  and 
the  Bible  classes  were  supplied  with  teachers. 
The   various    Sabbath  schools   of  the   town  had 


Changes,  267 

contributed  books  to  form  a  library.  Indeed,  the 
Christians  of  Morristovvn,  although  they  were 
willing  that  it  should  mark  out  its  own  path,  both 
prayed  and  worked  for  the  school  on  the  Com- 
mon, and  almost  every  Sabbath  found  some  vis- 
itor there  from  the  uptown  churches,- —  where  the 
young  superintendents  were  members.  Now  the 
visitor  would  be  Dr.  Mason  himself,  sometimes 
Professor  Kinney  with  his  wife,  and  occasion- 
ally, when  the  sunny  weather  would  allow  her  to 
ride  so  far.  Miss  Clemmer,  looking  more  like  a 
snow  -  drop  than  ever ;  but  oftenest  of  all  came 
Judge  Mansfield  and  Eachel.  These  usually 
took  charge  of  the  Bible  classes  ;  and  the  effect  was 
good,  although  the  answers  were  somewhat  con- 
strained, and  the  homely  discussions,  which  were 
so  free  and  interesting  when  they  were  by  them- 
selves, were  invariably  postponed.  Yet  the  zeal 
and  the  faith  of  this  congregation  of  poor  and  il- 
literate people  never  failed  to  be  strengthened  by 
these  visits  from  men  and   women   of  refinement 


268  Anna  Maylie, 

and  culture,  who  showed  in  every  look  and  word 
that  they  worked  for  the  same  Master  and  loved 
the  same  Saviour. 

It  was  not  many  months  before  a  prayer  meet- 
ing grew  out  of  the  Sunday  school.  At  first  it 
was  only  Rex  and  Anna  and  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Morse 
from  the  hillside ;  but  like  the  school,  and  like 
any  work  where  the  leaven  of  faith  and  earnest- 
ness is,  it  grew  until  on  Wednesday  nights  Mrs. 
May  lie's  house  would  be  thronged.  Often,  on 
those  nights,  Anna's  face  would  be  wet  with 
tears  as  she  realized  that  the  house  and  the  twi- 
light, once  so  inexpressibly  dreary,  had  become 
the  Hour  and  the  House  of  Prayer.  She  often 
wondered  if  she  would  not  have  drawn  back  in 
weakness,  could  she  have  foreseen  the  ever  -  wid- 
ening answer  to  her  importunate  prayers  for  work 
to  do  for  Jesus.  But  her  strength  developed 
along  with  her  labors ;  besides.  Rex  had  lifted  the 
heaviest  burdens  to  his  own  shoulders. 

He   had  grown  physically,    intellectually  and 


Changes,  269 

spiritually.  He  was  really  fine  looking,  as 
Rachel  had  said,  and  as  Anna  had  predicted  long 
ago  in  his  ragged  and  barefoot  days.  He  was 
tall,  with  thoughtful  brow,  piercing  eye,  and  firm 
mouth.  His  bearing  and  address  were  frank, 
straightforward  and  dignified.  He  was  noticeable 
anywhere,  —  at  school,  on  the  street,  at  work,  or 
at  church.  And  notice  and  appreciation  he  re- 
ceived without  stint.  Yet  Eex  Palmer  remained 
unspoiled ;  for  nowhere  was  he  so  thoroughly  his 
best  self,  nowhere  did  he  appear  to  such  advan- 
tage, as  among  his  own  people  in  the  Sunday 
school  of  Morristown  Common. 


CHAPTER  XVn. 


THE   HARVEST. 


ONTHS  glided  on.  Autumn 
hung  her  lamps  of  gold  and  crimson 
in  the  maples  around  the  little  brown 
Maylie  house,  and  lit  the  fading  year 
until  winter  wrapped  all  within  his  snowy  sheets 
of  rest  and  silence.  Tender  spring  came  back, 
searching  for  the  gold  of  her  crocuses  and  daffo- 
dils, and  touched  the  sleeping  earth  with  her  fin- 
ger of  beauty,  and  whispered,  "  Waken  now,  for 
June  is  on  the  way ! "  The  bright  procession 
passed,    then    came    and    tripped   its   fairy  circle 


The  Harvest.  271 

round  Anna's  home  once  more.  Within  there 
were  many  new  comforts  and  many  traces  of  re- 
finement. A  serene  contentment  always  rested 
upon  Anna's  face  now.  She  had,  at  last,  steadied 
her  life  by  "the  anchor  within  the  veil,"  and 
waited  calmly  as,  day  by  day,  her  Master's  pur- 
poses unfolded.  Faithfully  she  threw  the  shuttle 
of  duty  to  and  fro,  and  fretted  no  longer  because 
the  entire  pattern  was  not  unrolled  before  her 
impatient  eye.  As  the  web  was  woven  she  would 
doubtless  see  the  design. 

Her  mother  had  long  since  united  with  the 
church  of  which  she  herself  was  a  member.  Lit- 
tle Jim  was  one  of  her  brightest  scholars,  and 
loved  his  Sunday  -  school  and  his  weekly  school 
with  an  equal  devotion.  Last  year,  her  straw- 
berries, from  which  she  had  expected  no  profit, 
v\ad  flowered  and  fruited,  and  yielded  them  a  small 
sum.  She  had  faithfully  given  the  tenth  to  the 
Lord.  It  was  her  rule  with  all  her  earnings ; 
and  lately  she  had  thought  that  the  nine  -  tenths 


272  Anna  Maylie, 

remaining  had  become  invested  with  some  mirac- 
ulous power.  She  sometimes  wondered  if  the 
same  sacred  Hand  which,  of  old,  touched  the 
widow's  measure  of  meal  and  cruse  of  oil  had  not 
laid  in  blessing  upon  her  money.  Miss  Clemmer 
had  continued  to  give  her  employment  when  she 
was  not  at  work  among  her  berries,  so  that,  this 
year,  she  had  been  able  to  give  quite  liberally  to 
the  cause  she  loved  so  well. 

Never  before  had  their  earnings  seemed  to  do 
them  so  much  tangible  good.  They  had  been 
able  to  have  the  house  replastered,  and  to  build 
a  comfortable  kitchen.  And  over  this  enlarging 
of  their  borders  Mrs.  Maylie  and  Anna  rejoiced, 
for  Anna's  Sunday  school  had  overflowed  its 
limits,  and  even  to  their  prayer  meetings  the  peo- 
ple had  come  in  crowds.  Lute  had  offered  their 
house,  but  Anna  and  Rex  both  felt  that  the  en- 
tire school  ought  to  be  kept  together  under  their 
own  eyes. 

But  best  of  all  her  encouragements  was  the 


The  Harvest,  273 

steady  growth  of  her  first  "  answer"  to  prayer. 
There  was  constantly  before  her  that  miracle  of 
Kex.  She  was  just  becoming  dimly  conscious 
also  that  the  Master  might  have  an  especial  work 
for  him  to  do.  Anna  thrilled  at  the  thought. 
She  thrilled  as  she  began  to  feel  that  if  she  was 
circumscribed  by  want  of  capacity,  want  of 
means,  want  of  opportunity,  he  might  not  be. 
She  sometimes  thought  it  might  even  be  possible 
for  him  to  go  out  in  the  world,  and  there  do  such 
work  for  Jesus  that  Morristown  Common  might 
some  day  be  proud  to  have  been  the  birthplace 
of  Rexford  Palmer. 

She  also  long  ago  felt  that  he  had  grown  be- 
yond her.  There  were  grave  moods  of  which  he 
never  spoke,  hours  of  thought  whose  burden  she 
never  shared.  She  knew  that  he  was  not  one  to 
live  on  destitute  of  plans  and  aims,  but  she  chose 
not  to  question  him.  With  a  sigh,  she  turned 
away  from  this  contemplation,  of  his  bright  career 
of  usefulness,  feeling  that,   although   he    might 


274  A.nna  Maylie. 

have  outgrown  his  need  of  her,  she  could  never, 
never  be  thankful  enough  that  she  was  the  one 
■who  had  been  chosen  of  God  to  rouse  him  from 
that  old,  idle,  aimless  life. 

With  a  sigh  she  turned  back  quietly  to  her 
own  daily  life,  where  there  were  now  so  many 
blessings  to  count,  —  a  fair,  bright  rosary  of 
blessings,  yet  clasped  with  the  black  cross  of 
sorrow.  For  it  was  daily  growing  upon  Anna 
that  Miss  Clemmer  was  fast  fading  aw^ay.  She 
still  taught  her  class  occasionally,  and  now  and 
then,  when  a  day  came  that  she  felt  unusually 
strong,  would  visit  her  poor ;  but  all  her  merely 
social  duties  had  been  given  up  for  months,  and 
very  seldom  now  was  she  in  her  seat  at  the  morn- 
ing service.  But  the  little  Friday  prayer  meet- 
ings, which  had  never  growm  any  larger,  were 
still  held,  and  frequently  she  and  Kachel  spent 
an  afternoon  in  their  teacher's  room,  and  at  every 
visit  she  could  see  a  change.  Her  dark,  violet 
eyes  were  just  as  sweet  and  clear  as  of  old ;  but 


The  Harvest,  275 

those  white  temples  were  sunken,  and  the  rose  - 
leaf  had  faded  from  her  cheek.  The  lightest 
exercise  fatigued  her,  and  Anna  knew  she  could 
lift  and  carry  her  from  room  to  room,  so  fragile, 
so  etherial  had  she  grown. 

They  never  spoke  of  Miss  Clemmer  now, —  it 
was  too  sad, —  but  Anna  knew  that  Rachel  must 
see  it  all.  Neither  did  Miss  Clemmer  ever  al- 
lude to  her  health.  But  now  there  began  to  be 
outward  signs  which  could  not  be  mistaken. 
They  both  knew  that  the  family  physician  w^as 
constant  in  his  attendance,  and  that  one  and  an- 
other of  the  absent  members  of  the  family  had 
been  recalled ;  for  what  reason  they  felt  that  they 
knew,  alas  !  too  well. 

It  was  Rachel  who  was  the  good  genius  of 
Anna's  daily  life.  In  her  society  she  daily  grew 
in  refinement ;  under  her  influence  she  learned  to 
think  and  act  with  order  and  directness.  Eachel 
was  often  there ;  her  drives  and  walks  were  quite 


276  Anna  Maylie. 

as  often  in  tlie  direction  of  Morristown  Common 
as  up  the  cool,  wide  avenues  where  the  mansions 
of  wealth  gleamed  through  the  park-like  seclusion. 
Rachel's  Christianity  also  was  a  practical  Chris- 
tianity, and  she  was  never  weary  of  Anna's  Sab- 
bath -  school,  Anna's  prayer  meetings,  Anna's 
sick  and  poor.  And  among  her  greatest  pleas- 
ures she  counted  those  peaceful  evenings  in  the 
little  brown  house,  where  she  sat  in  the  old  rock- 
ing -  chair  by  the  door,  with  Anna  on  the  step  at 
her  feet,  and  Rex  standing  near,  the  moonlight 
falling  through  the  maples  on  them  all,  while 
they  went  over  and  over  again  the  Bible  class 
lessons  of  Anna's  Sabbath  school. 

Rachel,  too,  brought  her  many  a  practical  idea 
to  aid  her  in  her  week  -  day  labors.  In  the  in- 
terest of  Anna  and  her  strawberries  she  had 
grown  into  the  habit  of  looking  over  William's 
various  agricultural  papers,  and  she  gleaned 
many  a  valuable  idea  from  the  experience  of  the 
old    gardener    himself.      It    may   be   generally 


The  Harvest.  277 

enough  known  now,  but  it  was  quite  a  new  idea 
then  which  Rachel  carried  to  Anna,  that  it  was 
the  practice  of  old  English  gardeners  to  carefully 
rake  away,  or  separate,  the  winter  mulch  of 
straw  from  around  the  crown  of  the  plant,  and 
then  leave  the  ground  entirely  undisturbed  until 
the  berries  were  gathered.  Kachel  impressed  it 
upon  her  not  to  disturb  the  ground  upon  any  ac- 
count,—  not  a  leaf,  not  a  tiny  rootlet,  must  be 
displaced. 

Rachel  never  failed  to  walk  through  the  straw- 
berry grounds  when  she  visited  Anna.  And, 
indeed,  those  acres  of  emerald  strawberry  leafage 
had  been  something  beautiful  to  behold  all  the 
season ;  and  they  had  watched  the  clusters  up 
from  the  little,  hard,  green,  seedy  balls  until  now 
the  plants  were  loaded  with  rapidly  ripening 
fruit.  Mrs.  May  lie  and  Anna  both  refrained 
from  speculating  on  the  probable  result,  but 
Anna  did  not  think  that  the  acres  of  which  she 
had  read  could  have  been  more  heavily  loaded. 


278  Anna  Maylie. 

Preparations  for  the  harvest  were  now  going 
on  under  the  supervision  of  Eex.  Williams  had 
partially  prepared  him  to  estimate  the  probable 
yield,  and  he  had  ordered  boxes  and  crates  to  an 
extent  which  would  have  alarmed  Anna.  He  had 
also  accompanied  Judge  Mansfield  on  one  of  hid 
trips  to  the  city,  and  while  there  had  taken  a  look 
at  the  markets  and  obtained  much  valuable  in- 
formation ;  and  when  he  came  home  he  was  able 
to  tell  Anna  just  how,  and  when,  and  where,  and 
to  whom,  to  ship  her  berries. 

She  had  engaged  every  family  on  the  Common 
for  the  fast  -  approaching  harvest.  In  fact,  her 
entire  Sunday-school  was  laid  under  contribution. 
As  a  matter  of  course,  the  strange  doings  at  the 
Widow  Maylie's  had  come  to  be  the  one  absorb- 
ing theme  of  conversation  among  men,  women 
and  children.  The  men  themselves  had,  at  last, 
become  impressed  with  the  idea  that  "  straw- 
berries" was  an  actual  "  business"  —  a  business 
with  money  in  it ;    and  they  respectfully  watched 


The  Harvest:  279 

the  result  of  "  that  girl's"  experiment,  and  were 
thoroughly  prepared  to  be  astonished  at  nothing 
they  might  see  or  hear.  As  for  the  children, 
their  glee  and  excitement  were  unbounded.  They 
were  never  through  counting  the  days  when  the 
harvest  would  begin ;  and  as  the  time  drew 
nearer,  the  last  exclamation  as  they  went  to  bed, 
and  the  first  as  they  woke,  was, —  "  Day  after  to- 
morrow, Ned  !  "  "  Hurrah  !  only  just  one  more 
day,  Aggy,  and  then  we  shall  go  !  " 

Many  a  fierce  little  quarrel,  with  now  and  then 
a  blow,  followed  the  excited  boastings  of  one  am- 
bitious girl  over  another  as  to  the  number  of 
boxes  she  should  probably  pick.  Never  before, 
on  Morristown  Common,  had  such  discussions 
been  heard  respecting  the  superiority  of  pink 
hair -ribbons  over  blue,  and  gingham  over  cali- 
co, as  were  now  to  be  heard  among  those  poor 
children  when,  after  a  slow  and  painful  computa- 
tion of  what  a  hundred  quarts  would  amount  to 
at  two  cents  per  quart,  they  each  announced  what 


280  Anna  Maylie, 

they  should  expend  their  money  for.  And  it  in- 
variably was  for  something  to  wear  to  Sunday- 
school.  What  visions  of  little  calico  parasols 
with  scalloped  edges,  and  morocco  shoes,  and 
edgings  for  their  "  pantalets," —  using  the  homely 
phrase  they  had  always  heard ;  and  new  Testa- 
ments danced  before  the  eyes  of  those  children 
who  never  before  in  all  their  lives  had  had  a 
penny  to  spend  ! 

But  all  this  excitement  was  nothing  in  com- 
parison with  the  intense  feeling  which  had  been 
growing  all  summer  in  the  minds  of  the  women 
of  Morristown  Common.  They  had  heard  Mrs. 
Maylie  and  Anna  talk ;  they  had  seen  them  at 
work,  not  only  at  their  strawberries,  but  at  cur- 
rant bushes,  at  grape- vines,  among  their  sweet 
corn  and  early  potatoes,  planting  and  watching 
cucumbers  and  squashes,  weeding  their  trim 
onion  and  beet  beds,  hoeing  their  cabbages, 
trellising  and  trimming  their  tomatoes  ;  and  many 
a  panful  of  fi;esh  vegetables  from  that  smiling  gar- 


The  Harvest,  281 

den  had  found  its  way  to  the  house  of  one  and 
another  of  their  number.  They  saw  what  a  not  - 
over -strong  woman  and  her  daughter  had  accom- 
plished ;  and  then  they  looked  at  their  own  waste 
land  and  at  their  husbands,  and  brothers,  and 
sons,  strong  of  limb  and  muscle,  and  out  of  em- 
ployment half  the  time. 

Anna  was  not  blind  to  small  changes  now. 
She  saw  this  first  vague  stir  of  energy,  and  it 
gave  her  a  prophetic  glimpse  of  still  another  use 
which  God  might  graciously  intend  to  make  of 
her  and  her  influence  in  His  o^reat  desis^n.  In 
humble  faith  and  gratitude  she  softly  repeated  : 

"  Whereunto  shall  I  liken  the  kingdom  of 
God?  It  is  like  leaven  which  a  woman  took  and 
hid  in  three  measures  of  meal  until  the  whole  was 
leavened." 

Then  came  the  strawberry  harvest.  Rex 
brought  her  reports  of  wet  weather  and  rotting 
fruit  in  distant  localities,  but  the  weather  here 
was  beautiful.     Shower  after  shower   had  gently 


282  Anna  Mayh'e. 

done  its  work  for  the  growing  berries  during  the 
last  weeks,  and  now  the  hot  sunshine  crimsoned 
them  to  luscious  sweetness.  The  days  were  like  a 
festival.  The  busy  scene  had  a  strong  fascination 
for  Rachel,  as  she  stood  with  Anna  under  the 
maples  and  watched  the  passing  and  repassing 
women  and  children  who  gaily  dotted  those  neat- 
ly-fenced acres  which  once  were  so  drearily 
waste.  And  as  she  looked  upon  the  industrious 
multitude,  and  saw  the  rapidly  -  filling  crates,  and 
the  great  market  -  wagon  constantly  coming  and 
going,  and  noted  Anna's  orderly  supervision  of 
the  whole,  Eachel  felt,  as  she  remembered  her 
own  share  in  it,  that  this  was  the  one  deed  of  her 
whole  life  of  which  she  might  be  justly  proud. 

The  busy,  lovely  days  went  by,  one  by  one. 
Anna  sometimes  wondered  if  she  was  not  exist- 
ing in  a  dream,  as  she  saw  the  constant  loads  of 
fruit  leaving  for  the  depot,  and  if  she  should  not 
soon  wake  and  find  it  was  a  dream,  and  herself 
standing  upon  the  old  weedy   waste  with  the  old 


The  Harvest.  283 

heart-ache  and  discontent.  She  never  once  tried 
to  make  an  estimate  of  the  result.  She  had  no 
idea  at  all  of  the  number  of  quarts,  "  several  hun- 
dred I  dare  say,  perhaps  a  thousand,  or  even  two 
thousand",  she  thought,  when  she  thought  of  it 
at  all.  For  her  entire  attention  was  devoted  to 
the  supervision  of  the  pickers  ;  the  loading  and 
shipping,  the  letter  -  writing  and  the  accounts, 
were  all  left  to  Rex. 

Every  day  Rachel  came  over,  and  to  herself 
she  reserved  the  pleasure  of  giving  the  tired, 
sun  -  burned  band  of  laborers  a  little  fete  on  the 
last  day  under  the  maples.  "  It  shall  be  no 
trouble  to  any  one ;  you  are  not  to  give  it  a 
thought,"  she  said  to  Mrs.  Maylie,  who  at  once 
began  feeling  anxious  when  she  learned  of  the  ar- 
rangement. Rachel  took  it  all  within  her  own 
hands.  A  man  came  up  from  the  Mansfield  es 
tablishment  and  erected  a  long,  rough  table  under 
the  trees,  and  then,  in  the  morning,  Rachel  ap- 
peared  in  a   light  wagon  which   was  laden  with 


284  Anna  Maylie, 

her  dishes,  and  vases,  and  table  -  cloths,  her  ice  - 
cream  freezers  and  her  baskets  of  cake.  How 
gay  and  delighted  she  was  that  day  !  Anna  had 
never  seen  her  quiet  air  so  wholly  laid  aside 
before.  Dressed  in  just  a  simple  muslin  with  a 
ruffle  at  the  throat,  and  her  hair  tucked  behind 
her  ears,  she  could  hardly  realize  that  this  was 
the  young  lady  she  had  more  than  once  seen  at 
some  of  the  great  church  festivals  in  silk,  point 
lace  and  rubies. 

"  Mrs.  Jenkins  and  Mary  would  like  to  come 
and  do  the  work,"  she  said  to  Anna,  as  she 
tripped  to  and  fro  ;  "  but  it  is  the  work  itself  that 
delights  me.  I  am  going  to  do  everything  my- 
self. I  told  Mary  she  could  come  over  and  as- 
sist about  the  ice  -  cream, — that  is  all  the  help  I 
need.  You  are  to  do  nothing  at  all.  Mary  will 
help  me  wait  on  the  table,  and  you  and  Rex  will 
sit  in  state  and  pay  your  people." 

"  That  would  be  the  proper  time  to  pay  them , 
would  n't  it  ?  "   mused   Anna.     "  I   wonder   how 


The  Harvest,  285 

much  it  is  —  and  whether  —  and  you  suppose 
he"— 

She  paused.  "  I  wonder  if  E,ex  has  thought 
— ^has  made  any  provision." 

Eachel  laughed.  "  Enter,  fairy  god  -  mother, 
now.  I  only  asked  you  so  that  you  might  prop- 
erly appreciate  my  thoughtfulness.  I  have 
brought  over  a  blank  check,  which  father  said  I 
was  to  fill  out  when  I  learned  what  sum  you 
needed,  and  send  Rex  with  it  to  the  bank." 

"  You  are  always  thoughtful,  dear  Rachel," 
Anna  said.  "  Mother  has  some  money  by  her, 
but  I  presume  not  enough.  I  will  learn  as  soon 
as  Rex  comes  back." 

At  noon  the  last  berry  was  picked.  The  weary 
laborers  admitted  that  they  were  glad  that  the 
long  -  looked  for  season  was  over.  They  looked 
so  weary,  and  so  flushed  with  the  heat,  as  they 
passed  through  the  gate  !  They  were  a  motley 
band,  with  their  dusty  garments  and  stained  fin- 
gers ;  and  their  faces  expressed  plainly   enough 


286  Anna  Maylie, 

that  they  had  never  seen  anything  which  looked 
quite  so  cool  and  inviting  as  that  long  table 
which  stood  in  picnic  array  under  the  green  trees. 
And  it  was  a  pretty,  holiday  sight,  with  its 
snowy  linen,  and  delicate  china,  glittering  glass, 
and  tall  vases  of  flowers,  standing  there  in  the 
cool,  green,  wavering  shadows.  Almost  re- 
freshed with  the  mere  sight,  they  hurried  on  home 
to  rest,  and  to  don  their  holiday  attire  for  the 
four  o'clock  supper. 

About  two  o'clock  Rex  came  up  from  the  de- 
pot. "  The  last  quart  is  shipped,  ladies  !  "  he 
announced  with  a  low  bow.  "And  now,  with 
your  permission,  exit  Rex  !  "  he  added  with  a 
merry  glance  at  the  table,  "  for  I  presume  *  none 
but  gentlemen  admitted  here'  will  be  the  ordei 
for  the  remainder  of  the  day,"  and  he  surveyed 
himself  with  an  expressive  glance. 

He  did  indeed  look  tired,  sun  -  burned ,  and 
dusty ;  but  Anna  laughed  and  called  him  in. 
"  How  much  money  shall  we  need  in  order  to  pay 


The  Harvest.  287 

our  Imnds?"  she  inquired.  "  Kacliel  says,  pay 
them  this  afternoon  when  they  are  all  here  to- 
gether. Mother  has  twenty  -  five  dollars  in  the 
house,  but  I  thought  it  probably  would  not  be 
sufficient.     You  have  kept  account,  I  suppose?" 

Rex  looked  at  the  girl  with  a  droll  expression 
upon  his  countenance, — again  and  again,  with 
the  same  merry  light  in  his  eye,  until  finally  he 
threw  himself  down  in  a  chair  and  laughed  heart- 
ily. Anna  regarded  him  in  much  perplexity, 
and  grew  half  vexed  at  last. 

"What  ails  you,   Eex?" 

He  sobered  himself  as  well  as  he  could,  and 
said, — "Excuse  me,  Anna.  But  your  grave  ab- 
surdity is  irresistible.  Twenty  -  five  dollars  in- 
deed !  Child,  how  many  quarts  of  berries  do 
you  suppose  have  been  picked  and  shipped  from 
here  these  last  few  days  ?  " 

"  I  do  n't  know,  I  am  sure,"  she  answered. 
"  A  great  many  ;  I  suppose — perhaps  a  couple 
of  thousands —  I  do  n't  know   that   I  should   be 


288  Anna  Maylie, 

surprised  to  hear  you  say  three  thousand.  I 
know  I  have  been  greatly  astonished  to  see  that 
market-wagon  keep  coming." 

"  A  couple  of  thousand  !  three  thousand  ! 
Rachel  has  not  told  you,  then.  Look  here,  Anna  !" 
He  took  from  the  inside  pocket  of  his  coat  a 
memorandum  book  and  handed  it  to  her.  She  took 
it  and  studied  the  entries,  and  the  long  columns 
of  figures,  and  its  list  of  names  and  accounts,  for 
along,  long  time,  and  then  sat  down  and  gazed  at 
him  with  such  incredulous  astonishment  depicted 
in  her  wide,  brown  eyes  that  he  fell  to  laughing 
again. 

"  Nine  thousand  six  hundred  quarts ! "  she 
said  at  last.  "  I  should  be  inclined  to  think  this 
was  some  joke  upon  me,  Rex,  only  it  is  not  quite 
like  you." 

Some  one  stooped  down  and  kissed  her.  "  No, 
dear,  it  is  all  true,"  said  ilachel's  voice.  "  You 
and  your  mother  are  henceforth  going  to  be  out 
of  the  reach   of  care,  and  you   deserve  it,  little 


The  Harvest.  289 

girl.     Brave  hearts,   like  yours,  seldom  go  unre- 
warded." 

Anna  could  only  hide  her  tearful  face  against 
Rachel's  shoulder ;  and  when  the  girls  looked  up, 
Rex  was  gone.  Then  Rachel  sat  down  by 
Anna's  side  and  carefully  went  over  it  all  with 
her.  She  said,  "I  have  been  patiently  waiting 
to  enjoy  your  surprise,  Anna,  for  I  felt  sure  that 
you  had  no  idea  of  the  return  which  your  land 
and  labor  have  been  making  you.  I  know,  for 
Rex  has  kept  me  well-informed.  But  you  are 
far  too  much  astonished,  Anna.  You  must  re- 
member that  it  is  the  production,  not  of  a  simple 
strawberry  plat,  but  of  three  acres  of  ground. 
The  yield  ought  to  have  been  greater.  Father 
was  talkinoj  with  Williams  about  it  this  morninsr. 
Williams  says  it  is  only  an  ordinary  yield.  He 
says  that,  with  thorough  culture  and  the  use  of 
proper  fertilizers,  the  quantity  of  fruit  may  be 
doubled.  But  let  us  see  now  what  sum  of  money 
you  will  need  that  you  may    pay  your  people, — 


290  Anna  Maylie. 

one  hundred  ninety -two  dollars,  is  it  not?  Well, 
that  is  of  little  consequence.  It  is  of  more  inter- 
est to  ascertain  what  will  remain  to  you,  my 
faithful  little  Anna.  Both  father  and  Rex  say 
that  expenses  can  not  reduce  the  net  profits  be- 
low twenty  cents  per  quart  this  year,  because  the 
wet  weather  has  been  so  unfavorable  to  the  gen- 
eral crop.  So  we  can  determine  quite  accurate- 
ly, I  think.  If  their  estimate  proves  correct, 
Anna,  there  will  remain  to  you  one  thousand 
nine  hundred  and  twenty  dollars." 

She  paused,  and  looked  at  Anna.  But  Anna 
was  silent ;  she  did  not  even  raise  her  eyes,  or 
smile.  She  only  sat  and  held  Rachel's  hand  and 
tried  to  think  ;  she  had  indeed  had  no  idea  of  the 
magnitude  of  her  business. 

But  the  results  were  really  what  Rex  and  Judge 
Mansfield  had  predicted.  Strawberry  farms 
were  not  so  common  then  as  they  are  now,  and 
tlie  distance  to  New  York  was  so  short  that  the 
fruit  arrived   in    o:ood    condition.      After  all  ex- 


The  Harvest. 


291 


penses  were  paid.  Rex   placed  nearly   two   thou- 
sand dollars  in  her  hands. 

"  At  last  I  have  a  worthy  offering ;  for  there 
are  two  hundred  dollars  for  the  Master's  work," 
was  Anna's  chief  comment.  And  after  long 
hours  of  thought,  she  sought  her  mother  for  her 
approval  concerning  a  plan  which  she  had  con- 
ceived and  matured. 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 


HE   GIVETH  HIS   BELOVED   SLEEP. 

HE  morning  after  her  money  came, 
Anna  rose  joyous  as  a  lark,  and  she 
sang  like  any  lark,  too.  Rex,  in  his 
chamber,  poring  over  his  books,  heard 
her,  and  sighed.  "  Happy  Anna,  who  has  done 
so  much  !  I  wonder  if  she  '11  miss  her  faithful 
old  Rex  when  he's  gone? — I  believe  she  will. 
But  I  am  not  needed  here:  she  will  accomplish 
all  that  I  should  ; — trust  Anna  May  lie  for  that ! 
But  what  shall  I  do  without  her  at  my  right  hand, 
— she  who  gave  me  the  first  impulse  toward 
good  that  I  ever   had  ?    I   must   tell  her  to  -  day 


He  Giveth  His  Beloved  Sleep.       293 

that  I  am  going,  and  poor  Lute  too,  and  Prof. 
Kinney  ;  it  is  not  what  he  has  planned  for  me  I 
know,  but  it  is  the  best  way  open.  God  surely 
knows  which  is  fittest  for  me, — to  follow  my  own 
ambition,  or  to  go  searching  for  His  scattered 
sheep  and  bear  them  His  blessed  Word.  To  be 
willing  to  obey  His  will  is  better  than  to  cultivate 
my  humble  talents,  I  suspect." 

He  spoke  cheerfully,  but  there  was  the  sadness 
of  self-renunciation  upon  brow  and  lip  ;  and  his 
eyes  closed  sadly  as  Anna's  voice  came  floating 
up  through  the  trees,  and  he  listened  for  a  mo- 
ment. It  was  "Jerusalem  the  Golden"  which 
she  sang  as  she  flitted  in  and  out,  and  her  voice 
rang  clear  and  triumphant : 

"  There  is  the  throne  of  David, 

And  there,  from  care  released, 
The  shout  of  them  that  triumph, 

The  song  of  them  that  feast. 
And  they  who  with  their  Leader 

Have  conquered  in  the  fight, 
Forever  and  forever 

Are  clad  in  robes  of  white." 


294  Anna  MayUe. 

"  I  can  see,"  he  said  as  he  looked  down  upon 
the  scene  lately  so  busy,  "  that  this  will  lead  to 
wealth,  though  I  know  how  Anna  will  stand  in 
its  midst, — just  a  faithful  steward  of  God's 
bounty,  that  is  all, — dear,  true  little  girl !  But 
it  will  place  her  far  enough  out  of  Rex  Palmer's 
reach.  We  shall  never  work  side  by  side,  all 
through  life,  as  I  know  now  I  had  hoped.  She 
will  be  gone  when  I  come  home,  and  I  shall 
only  hear  of  her.  I  shall  hear  of  her  I  know, 
for,  whatever  she  becomes  aud  wherever  she  is, 
she  will  never  be  unfaithful  to  dear  old  Morris- 
town  Common." 

Anna  sang  on : 

"  Jerusalem  the  golden, 

With  milk  and  honey  blest, 
Beneath  thy  contemplation 

Sink  heart  and  voice  opprest. 
I  know  not,  oh  I  I  know  not 

What  joys  await  us  there. 
What  radiancy  of  glory, 

What  bliss  beyond  compare." 

Words  and  time  were  in  unison  with  her  glad 


He  Giveth  His  Beloved  Sleep,       295 

thoughts.  "  Rex  will  do  more  than  the  bare 
money  could  if  I  paid  it  into  the  treasury.  I 
think  I  am  sure  of  the  plan.  But  Rachel  will 
know,  and  Miss  Clemmer,  too,  can  tell  me,  for 
her  brother  was  educated  at  college.  And  if  we 
can  only  put  Rex  there  safe  for  a  year's  stay,  I 
will  just  trust  God  to  keep  him  there.  And  He 
will  surely  do  it  if  it  is  the  place  for  him." 

After  breakfast  she  busied  herself  out  of  doors, 
raking  away  the  old  mulch  from  the  strawberries 
preparatory  to  giving  them  a  thorough  hoeing. 
So  accustomed  was  our  simple  Anna  to  daily 
labor,  that  she  had  not  yet  realized  that  she  might 
now  afford  herself  a  rest.  Through  the  trees  she 
caught  a  glimpse  of  Rex  at  the  open  window,  and 
she  was  vaguely  wondering  why  he  did  not  come 
down,  when  she  heard  the  gate  open,  and  saw  a 
boy  whom  she  knew  was  employed  at  the  Clem- 
mers.  Instead  of  going  to  the  door  he  came 
directly  to  her,  and  she  foreboded  ill  tidings  as 
he   handed  her  a  note. 


296  Anna  May  He, 

It  was  from  Miss  Gertie,  saying  that  her  sis- 
ter had  grown  worse,  and  she  wished  Annate 
come  and  stay  a  few  days  with  them.  "We 
need  some  one  to  sit  by  her  constantly,  and, 
though  we  have  plenty  of  nurses,  sister  has  ex- 
pressed a  wish  for  you." 

Gertie's  words  were  few  and  simple ;  but  as 
Anna's  hand  fell  heavily  to  her  side,  and  she 
stood  with  closed  eyes,  she  felt  only  too  surely 
that  the  end  was  near. 

Eousing  herself,  she  dismissed  the  boy,  and 
passing  under  the  old  apple-trees,  looked  up  to 
Ilex's  window  and  called.  When  he  came  down, 
she  told  him  ia  a  few  quiet  words,  and  then 
asked  him,  Would  he  see  to  the  garden  a  few 
days  longer,  and  take  her  mother  and  little  Jim 
in  his  care  ? 

He  waited  so  long   before   answering   her  that 
Anna   wondered.     Finally   he   said,   in  a    low, 
grave  voice,    quite   unlike    his    own, — "Yes;    I 
will  stay.      But,    Anna,    I   had  intended  to   say 


Bq   Giveih  His  Beloved  Sleep.       297 

good  -  bye  to  you  and  to  everybody  else  here  to- 
day, or  to  -  morrow  at  the  farthest."  Here  he 
paused,  for  every  trace  of  color  had  left  his  listen- 
er's cheeks.  "  It  ought  not  to  seem  strange  to 
any  one.  I  am  too  old  for  a  school -boy;  be- 
sides, I've  worthless  years  to  make  up." 

She  interrupted  him  with  an  impatient  ges- 
ture, 

"  Where  were  you  going  ?  " 

"As  a  colporter  to  the  far  West." 

"  Indeed,  you  're  not !  "  she  exclaimed  with  her 
old  energy.  "  Just  drop  this  plan  until  I  can 
talk  with  you  !  I  know  much  better  than  you  do 
where  you're  going  !  Forgive  me,  Eex,"she  added 
with  a  blush.  "  I  do  n't  know  how  to  choose 
my  words  like  Rachel.  But  I  want  you  to  prom- 
ise me  that  you  will  defer  your  plans  a  few 
days." 

"  I  shall  stay  if  you  wish  it,  of  course.  You 
will  find  me  here  when  you  come  back." 

Anna   turned  away.      It  came  over  her  with 


298  Anna  Maylie. 

eucli  force  how  she  might  come  back, —  with 
what  a  heart  -  ache,  and  from  what  solemn 
scenes. 

Still  she  was  not  prepared.  Not  even  for  the 
change  in  Miss  Clemmer's  room,  so  darkened  and 
hushed.  There  was  no  lovely  figure  in  its  white 
wrapper  beckoning  to  her  from  the  familiar  sofa. 
The  sofa  and  the  flowers  were  gone.  A  low 
couch  stood  in  the  center  of  the  room,  and  there , 
white  as  a  lily  laid  among  the  snowy  pillows,  her 
teacher  rested.  Gertie  sat  slowly  fanning  her, 
and  one  or  two  nurses  were  moving  silently 
about. 

The  large  blue  eyes  unclosed,  and  for  a  mo- 
ment rested  upon  her  face.  With  a  faint  smile 
she  whispered  to  Gertie, — "Go,  dear,  and  lie 
down.     Anna  will  take  your  place." 

Gertie  silently  motioned  Anna  to  the  chair. 
Her  eyes  were  red  with  weeping,  and  she  looked 
60  sad  and  weary.  At  the  door  she  beckoned 
Anna.     "If  she  sinks  again,  come  to  me  at  once. 


He  Giveth  His  Beloved  Sleep,       299 

My  room  is  this    one.     Papa  is     in  the  library. 
But  I  shall  not  be  long  away.     We  thought  once 
in  the  night  thptt  she  was  going.     O    Anna  May- 
lie,  you   can  pray, — ask  God  to  spare  my  sis- 
ter I » 

She  softly  came  back,  but  Miss  Clemmer  had 
no  consciousness  of  her  return.  She  sat  down 
and  gazed  at  the  thin,  transparent  hand  which 
now  and  then  was  thrown  wearily  above  her  head  ; 
she  remembered  so  well  its  warm,  soft  clasp  on 
those  Sabbath  mornings  which  could  never  come 
again.  How  peaceful  the  face  was,  with  its 
closed  eyes,  and  the  faint  breath  just  lifting  the 
snowy  muslin  at  her  throat.  It  was  only  last 
week  that  she  had  seen  her ;  how  could  there 
have  been  such  a  change  ? 

The  day  wore  away  in  the  darkened  chamber, 
— long,  golden  hours  without.  Anna  could  hear 
the  songs  and  the  merry  twitter  of  careless  birds. 
Bee  and  butterfly  and  breeze  were  rife  among  the 
flowers  she  would   never   tend  again.     Carriages 


300  Anna  Maylie, 

passed  and  repassed  outside,  and  the  busy  world 
hurried  by  on  its  errands. 

Once  Dr.  Mason  came  to  the  door,  but  de- 
clined to  go  in.  There  was  a  long,  sorrowful^ 
parting  look  at  the  one  who  had  worked  so  faith- 
fully in  his  field,  and  had  sunk  down  in  weari- 
ness among  her  sheaves  while  it  was  yet  noon. 
Once,  when  they  lifted  the  shadowy  figure,  she 
seemed  to  revive  and  recognize  Anna,  and  whis- 
pered faintly, —  "  Among  the  shadows  of  the 
valley,  Anna, — but  the  Angel  of  the  Covenant 
walks  before  me." 

Toward  evening  she  revived ;  and  her  voice 
grew  clear  once  more.  From  the  pillows  she 
looked  at  Anna  a  lons^  time  with  an  eager  and 
loving  look,  and  once  more  Anna  felt  the  clasp 
of  the  little  hand  which  had  led  her  to  the  feet  of 
Jesus. 

At  last  she  said :  "  I  think  my  work  is  not 
yet  done.  Sister  has  promised  me  that  she  would 
be  a  Christian,  but  there  are  other  promises  which 


He   Giveth  His  Beloved  Sleep,       301 

I  must  bear  to  the  Master  ; — I  think  I   have  been 
sent  back  for  these." 

She  called  Gertie  to  her  side  and  said,  faintly, 
— "  Let  me  see  my  girls  once  more." 

Her  voice  was  fast  sinking  back  to  the  tremu- 
lous, gasping  whisper,  but  Gertie  could  not  re- 
fuse her.  "Yes,  Elizabeth,  they  shall  come. 
Anna  will  go  for  Satie  and  Clara ;  Rachel 
and  Fanny  are  already  here." 

With  pale  cheeks  the  girls  followed  Gertie  in, 
one  by  one, — Satie — ^Fanny — Clara.  And  as 
she  looked  upon  those  precious  faces  which  now 
she  should  never  see  lit  with  love  for  the  Saviour, 
and  as  she  felt  that  through  all  time  and  eternity 
her  gaze  might  never  rest  on  them  again, —  never 
— never, — her  eyes  saddened  with  the  great 
heart  -  break  of  an  everlasting  farewell.  She 
turned  away  her  head  with  a  rush  of  emotion 
which  shook  her  frail  form  like  a  reed  in  the 
tempest.  Gertie  sprang  to  her  side  in  alarm, — • 
she   had     fainted.     .     .     .     Gertie    turned    to- 


302  Anna  Maylie. 

wards  the  frightened  girls  where  they  stood  sob- 
bing in  the  hall.  "Fanny,  Clara,  Satie,  my 
sister  will  never  be  able  to  speak  to  you  again, — 
it  is  almost  over, —  but  she  wanted  yoa  to  love 
Jesus.  She  wanted  to  know  if  she  should  look 
for  you  in  heaven,  —  oh,  did  you  not  see?  I 
shall  strive  to  meet  her  there." 

Fanny  clasped  her  hands  convulsively.  "  If 
there  comes  a  moment  when  she  knows,  tell  her 
we  will — we  will!" 


She  never  revived  from  that  swoon  so  akin  to 
death.  She  lapsed  from  the  swoon  into  slumber, 
—  a  slumber  so  quiet  and  imperceptible  that  they 
scarcely  knew  whether  it  was  slumber.  Solemn- 
ly the  hours  came  and  went  on  shadowy  wing. 
Without,  Anna  knew  the  summer  moon  was 
shining,  and  the  world,  asleep  in  its  starlit  beau- 
ty, was  waiting  for  the  coming  of  gladness  and 
morning.  But  within,  life  and  thought  stood 
still.      The   fiiint   striking    of  clocks    in  distant 


He  Giveth  His  Beloved  Sleep,       303 

rooms  reached  Anna's  ear,  but  there  was  no  other 
sound  or  movement  to  mark  \he  flight  of  the 
hushed  hours. 

But  just  at  daybreak  there  was  a  change, — just 
a  flutter  of  the  fingers,  and  with  a  sigh,  a  sigh  of 
utter  rest  —  she  was  gone. 

"And  I  heard  a  voice  from  heaven,  saying  unto 
me.  Write.  Blessed  are  the  dead  which  die  in  the 
Lord  from  henceforth  :  Yea,  saith  the  Spirit,  that 
they  may  rest  from  their  labors  ;  and  their  works 
do  follow  them." 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

A  MESSAGE   FROM  THE   DEAD. 

^  LL  was     over, —  earth    to  earth, 
and  dust  to    dust,    and   the    Spirit  to 
^^   God  who  gave  it. 

Like  one  who  sees  in  a  dream, 
Anna  Maylie  had  seen  the  carriages  gather  and 
pause  within  the  grounds,  —  the  hearse,  with  its 
solemn  sables  and  nodding  plumes,  standing  its 
dreary  hour  in  front  of  the  great  hall ;  she  had 
taken  her  place  with  Fanny,  and  Clara,  and  Satie, 
and  E-achel,  in  the  fjreat  drawin^:  -  room  where 
the  dead  rested  in  her  serene   and   motionless  re- 


A  Message  from  the  Dead,  305 

pose,  while  those  whom  she  head  loved  came  and 
went  with  their  useless  sorrow  and  unavailinsj 
tears.  Human  love  felt  once  as^ain  the  useless- 
ness  of  its  wild  appeal  and  vain  protest  against 
death,  as  the  psalm  of  the  old  centuries  sounded 
in  its  ear : 

"  Lord,  Thou  hast  beeen  our  dwelling  place  in 
all  generations. 

"  Before  the  mountains  were  brought  forth,  or 
ever  Thou  hadst  formed  the  earth  and  the  world, 
even  from  everlasting  to  everlasting  Thou  art 
God. 

"  Thou  turnest  man  to  destruction  ;  and  sayest, 
Return  ye  children   of  men. 

"  For  a  thousand  years  in  thy  sight  are  but  as 
yesterday  when  it  is  past,  and  as  a  watch  in  the 
night. 

"Thou  carriest  them  away  as  with  a  flood  ;  they 
are  as  a  sleep  ;  in  the  morning  they  are  like  grass 
which  groweth  up  ;  in  the  evening  it  is  cut  down 
aad  withereth. 


306  Anna  Maylie. 

"  For  we  are  consumed  by  Thine  anger,  and  by 
Thy    wrath  are  we  troubled." 

She  had  listened  to  the  words  of  prayer  and 
resignation  that  followed,  and  then,  seated  by 
Eachel's  side,  she  had  wound  slowly  in  the  long 
procession  to  the  church,  and  had  followed  with 
the  class  as  they  bore  her  teacher  within  for  her 
solemn  hour's  rest  before  the  altar  where,  years 
before,  she  had  consecrated  her  life  to  God.  She 
had  listened  while  the  firm  words  of  consolation 
and  of  faith  had  been  pronounced,  and  dirge  and 
requiem  chanted  over  her  who  had  fallen  asleep 
in  the  sure  hope  of  a  resurrection,  and  then,  by 
Eachel's  side,  she  had  taken  her  last  long  look  of 
the  serene  face  which  was  stamped  forevermore 
with  an  expression  of  sublime  trust  and  untroub- 
led waiting. 

Now,  at  Gertie's  especial  request,  she  had  re- 
turned. She  had  walked  back  quietly  and  alone 
to  the  hushed  house  where  the  streamers  of  crape 
still  waved   in   the   summer    breeze,  and  the  sun 


A  Ifessage  from  the  Dead,  307 

poured  brightly  through  the  open  windows  of 
the  beautiful  chamber  above,  whose  young  mis- 
tress had  gone  forth  to  come  again  no  more  for- 
ever. She  could  see  that  the  blinds  were  thrown 
back  and  the  long  windows  standing  open,  as  she 
came  up,  and  her  blossoming  plants  in  their  gay- 
est array  upon  the  balcony  without,  whence  so 
many  mornings  that  sweet  face  had  looked  down 
upon  her  with  its  welcome  as  she  came  to  her 
labors  in  the  grounds  below. 

Scarcely  bestowing  a  thought  upon  the  reason 
why  a  request  for  her  return  had  been  made,  she 
sat  down  in  the  sitting  -  room  to  wait  until  Ger- 
tie should  appear.  Mechanically  she  opened  the 
heavy  Bible  which  rested  upon  the  table  before 
her,  and  sought  out  those  sublime  words  of  cheer 
which  had  been  pronounced  at  the  grave  : 

"  So  also  is  the  resurrection  of  the  dead.  It 
is  sown  in  corruption ;  it  is  raised  in  incorrup- 
tion: 

"  It  is  sown  in  dishonor ;  it  is  raised  in  glory : 


308  Anna  Maylie. 

it  is   sown  in  weakness  ;  it    is    raised  in  power : 

"  It  is  sown  a  natural  body ;  it  is  raised  a  spir- 
itual body. 

And  as  we  have  borne  the  image  of  the  earthy, 
we  shall  also  bear  the  image  of  the  heavenly." 

Anna  closed  her  eyes  and  thought :  "  And 
thus  it  will  be  when  I  see  her  again  !  When  I 
see  her  again  !  Shall  I  know  the  glorified  face  in 
its  heavenly  beauty  ?  When  I  see  her  again  she 
will  be  in  the  image  of  the  heavenly,  wearing  the 
robe  of  white,  bearing  aloft  the  palm  of  praise, 
singing  the  new  song,  called  by  her  new  name." 

She  looked  up  with  a  start  as  Gertie's  hand 
was  placed  upon  her  shoulder.  How  thin,  and 
sad,  and  weary,  the  young  sister  looked  in  her 
dress  of  heavy  mourning  !  Anna  asked  herself, 
"  As  these  memories  can  not  fade  from  me,  will 
it  be  possible  for  her  to  forget  ?  Will  I  ever  hear 
of  her  again  as  the  gay  Gertie  Clemmer  ?  " 

"  I  have  allowed  you  to  wait  a  long  time,  I 
fear,"  she  said,  gently.     "  I  had  almost  forgotten 


A  Message  from  the  Dead,  809 

that  you  must  be  here.  Papa  would  Hke  to  see 
us  in  the  library.  Come  with  me,  if  you 
please." 

Wondering,  Anna  rose  and  followed  her  as 
she  traversed  still  a  different  hail  from  any  she  had 
ever  entered.  It  was  warm  and  brilliant  with  the 
sunshine  which  streamed  through  the  great  stained 
window  and  fell  in  rainbow  floods  upon  the  tes- 
sellated floor.  Gertie  swung  back  a  heavy  door, 
and  then,  for  the  first  time,  Anna  stood  within 
the  magnificent  Clemmer  library.  Furnished 
in  the  severest  taste,  it  yet  impressed  her,  unac- 
customed as  she  was,  with  the  feeling  that  almost 
boundless  wealth  had  been  required  to  gather  to- 
gether its  treasures  of  thought. 
-  In  a  large  arm  -  chair,  wearing  a  look  of 
shrinkinsr  within  himself  as  if  he  had  received 
some  crushing  blow,  Anna  saw  an  old  man 
whom  she  could  with  difiiculty,  at  the  first  glance, 
recognize  as  Mr.  Clemmer, —  so  old,  so  changed 
did  he  seem,  so   changed  from  the  fine  -  looking 


310  Anna  May  lie, 

old  gentleman  with  fair  complexion  and  faultless 
attire,  whom  she  often  met  upon  his  daily  way  to 
the  bank. 

As  they  entered,  he  looked  up  absently,  then 
slowly  passed  his  hand  across  his  brow,  as  if  to 
summon  back  his  recollection.  "I  have  brouo:ht 
Anna  Maylie,  as  you  wished.  Papa,"  Gertie  said, 
in  a  tone  of  explanation. 

"  Yes —  yes,"  he  answered ;  "  yes,  I  remember. 
Give  her  a  seat,  Gertrude." 

He  was  still  in  his  funeral  black,  and  Anna 
could  see  that  it  was  not  simply  a  moment  of 
mournful  abandonment  to  the  desolation  of  his 
house  which  lent  him  that  semblance  of  advanced 
age.  Wrinkles,  and  gray  hair,  and  leaden  com- 
plexion remained  to  testify  to  the  ravages  of  hu- 
man grief,  and  he  leaned  upon  his  staff  in  weak- 
ness as  he  passed  to  the  table  and  unlocked  a 
drawer.  He  took  from  thence  a  letter,  and  sat 
down.  Turning  to  Anna,  he  thus  addressed 
her : 


A.  Message  from  the  Dead,  311 

"About  two  months  since,  when  my  daughter 
Elizabeth  first  felt  that  her  last  illness  was  ap- 
proaching, she  came  to  me  and  asked  my  counsel 
and  approval  concerning  the  disposition  of  a  small 
personal  property  which  had  been  bequeathed  to 
her  by  an  aunt.  This  property  consisted  of  a 
valuable  set  of  pearls,  principally  valuable  to  us, 
however,  because  they  have  been  in  the  Clemmer 
family  for  over  a  century.  I  proposed  to  become 
their  purchaser,  since  she  wished  their  value  in 
the  form  of  money,  but  she  seemed  to  feel  that 
she  had  consecrated  the  pearls  themselves,  and 
that  if  I  took  them  it  would  simply  amount  to  the 
fact  of  the  money  being  my  gift  instead  of  hers, 
as  the  pearls  would  still  be  retained  in  the  fam- 
ily. Feeling  myself  that  they  were  now  conse- 
crated to  the  service  of  God,  I  finally  disposed  of 
them,  and  placed  their  value  in  her  hands  in  the 
form  of  the  original  draft,  which  she  preferred  to 
exchange  for  a  check  upon  our  bank.  This 
check  you  will  find   in   the   letter  which  I  hold. 


312  Anna  Maylie, 

Singularly,  perhaps,  she  has  constituted  yon, 
Anna  May  lie,  the  trustee  of  this  sum  of  money, 
and  informed  me  that  all  needful  instructions  for 
its  use  are  contained  in  this  letter. 

"Anxious  to  obey  her  wishes  as  literally  as  pos- 
sible, and  learning  that  the  young  man  whom 
they  concern  has  already  formed  a  plan  which 
might  delay  or  obstruct  the  fulfillment  of  those 
wishes,  I  have  thought  it  necessary,  thus  early, 
to  place  the  matter  in  your  hands.  I  do  not  my- 
self think  it  needful  to  question  you,  as  I  had  the 
fullest  confidence  in  my  daughter's  judgment.  I 
shall  add,  however,  that  if  you  or  Mr.  Palmer 
need  advice  or  further  assistance,  I  stand  ^ready 
both  to  advise  and  assist." 

Anna  received  the  letter  in  bewildered  silence, 
but  her  name  inscribed  upon  it  in  those  delicate 
characters  so  familiar  to  her  now,  touched  her 
heart  anew,  and  the  tears  fell  fast  and  heavy  upon 
this  message  from  the  dead.  Gertie  had  risen, 
and  she  rose  also,  and  would  have  endeavored  to 


A  Message  from  the  Dead.  31  j 

speak,  but  she  saw  that  Mr.  Clemmer  had  again 
relapsed  into  his  sad  forgetfulness.  With  fresh 
tears  upon  her  own  face,  Gertie  quietly  led  the 
way  forth. 

As  she  stood  in  the  hall  door  a  moment,  she 
placed  in  Anna's  hand  the  familiar  little  Bible 
from  which  she  had  been  taught  so  many  Sab- 
baths, and  said, — "  Sister  left  a  memento  for 
each  of  her  girls  ;  but  I  think  yours  is  most  pre^ 
ious  of  all ; —  all  through  it  are  marked  texts  and 
favorite  passages,  and  she  told  me,  Anna,  that 
she  had  marked  many  especially  for  you,  and  I 
see  that  she  has  written  your  own  name  against 
these.  And  the  pearls,  Anna  ; — she  talked  with 
me  about  them  at  the  first,  —  as  they  would  have 
come  to  me, —  but  I  was  entirely  willing  that 
she  should  appropriate  them  as  she  wished.  I 
can  see  her  now  as  she  said,  so  earnestly, —  'Let 
them  go,  Gertie,  and  shed  the  light  of  heaven  on 
lost  and  benighted  souls.'  She  was  certain  that 
he  would  not  betray    her  trust,  —  this   Eexford 


314  Anna  Maylie, 

Palmer, —  and  you  are  certain  too,  Anna,  are 
you  not  ?  But  I  forget  that  you  have  not  yet  read 
this  letter,  so  I  will  not  detain  you.  Come  some- 
times and  see  me,  Anna,  for  her  sake." 

In  her  own  room  at  home,  she  at  last  sat  down 
to  read  the  letter.  It  was  with  a  feeling  akin  to 
that  with  which  we  enter  the  presence  of  the 
dead,  that  she  approached  this  message  from  the 
World  Beyond.  As  she  reverently  unfolded  the 
soft,  satiny  leaves  which  she  knew  her  hands  had 
folded  away,  there  slipped  from  within  a  tress  of 
hair, —  silken,  brown,  and  living  now, —  and 
after  long,  long  years,  when,  beneath  the  daisied 
sod,  brow  of  beauty  and  cheek  and  lip  and  tress 
had  turned  back  to  dust,  this  would  remain, 
silken,  and  brown,  and  living  still. 

Tenderly  laying  it  aside,  Anna  returned  to  her 
letter.  Within  the  envelope  she  saw  a  folded 
paper, —  doubtless  the  check  of  which  Mr.  Clem- 
mer  had  spoken,  and  which  was  still  a  mystery, 
and  another  enveloped  letter.     Eemoving  it,  she 


ji  Message  from  the  Dead,  315 

saw  that  it  was   addressed  to   Eexford    Palmer. 
Turning  finally  to  her  own,  she  read  : 

"  My  Dear  AniiJa  :— 

"  I  have  waited  long  for  a  day 
when  I  shouM  feel  sufficiently  well  and  strong  to  summon 
yourself  and  your  friend  Eexford  to  hear  what  I  wish  to  say. 
But  I  am  convinced,  at  last,  that  I  have  no  reasonable  right  to 
look  forward ;  and,  limited  by  my  little  strength,  I  can  only 
leave  a  written  message. 

"  You  will  read  these  tremulous  lines  upon  a  day  when  she 
who  writes  them  will  be  gone  to  her  long  home,  and  the 
mourners  are  going  about  the  streets.  If  the  time  be  soon,  or 
slow,  or  swift,  I  know  not.  I  only  surely  know  that  it  ap- 
proaches, and  that  I  must  hasten  to  do  what  I  may  of  my 
work,  *  or  ever  the  silver  cord  be  loosed,  or  the  golden  bowl 
be  broken.'  In  the  dawning  light  of  Eternity,  which  is  fall- 
ing even  now  around  me,  I  have  discovered  neglected  oppor- 
tunities and  wasted  wealth.  Not  always  have  my  zeal  and 
love  been  fervent,  and  commensurate  with  my  position  and 
my  means.  I  sometimes  feel  that  I  shall  look  back  from 
heaven  itself  with  regretful  eyes  to  the  fields  of  earth  white 
with  the  ripening  harvest,  and  repent  and  bewail  my  sloth, 
unless,  in  these  hours  wbich  yet  remain,  I  hasten  to  repair  my 
inactivity. 

"  It  has  been  in  my  thoughts  and  prayers  for  a  long  period 
to  reach  forth  my  hand,  when  the  proper  time  should  arrive, 
to  help  your  friend,  Eexford  Palmer,  up  where  he  might  do 
his  best  and  worthiest  service  for  the  Master  whose  trust  I 
have  not  always  fulfilled.  I  have  not  remained  blind  to  his 
talent  for  active  and  public  labor.  I  am  convinced  that  he  has 
been  fitted  by  nature  to  teach,  to  guide,  to  lead,  to  inspire. 


316  Anna  Maylie, 

To  myself  I  have  often  pictured  his  power,  when  his  iut/ellect 
shall  become  trained  and  disciplined  to  perfectly  obey  the  dic- 
tates of  his  zeal  and  his  love  for  Jesus.  I  shall  never  see  it. 
But  lately  I  have  thought  that  I  might  leave  Mm  in  my  place 
in  the  field  and  go  home  rejoicing. 

"  In  this  spirit  of  faith  and  hope,  I  have  matured  my  phins. 
I  have  consulted  those  who  understand  better  than  I  his  intel- 
lectual capacity,  and  T  offer  him  now  the  opportunity  of  a 
thorough  collegiate  and  theological  education.  At  my  request, 
my  father  would  defray  expenses  of  this  cherished  wish,  but 
my  own  hands  must  needs  accomplish,  alone,  their  last  labor. 
I  alone  will  equip  my  substitute  for  the  field. 

"  From  the  sale  of  the  pearls  you  have  handled  so  often, 
Anna,  delighting  in  their  pure,  soft,  glancing  light,  I  have  re- 
alized two  thousand  dollars,  and  this  sum  I  place  in  your 
hands  in  trust  for  the  purpose  I  have  named.  I  prefer  to 
trust  you  of  all  others,  because  you,  better  than  any  other, 
know  if  he  loves  Jesus  with  entire  devotion,  and  if,  above  all 
things  else,  he  would  choose  the  ministry  for  the  one  absorb- 
ing work  of  his  life.  I  say  again,  I  can  trust  you,  Anna,  in 
this,  as  I  can  trust  no  one  else.  You  can  not  be  deceived;  a 
partial  stranger  might.  If  he  chooses  the  ministry  with  hearty 
conviction  and  eager  zeal,  then  say  to  Mm  that  Prof.  Kinney  is 
aware  of  all  my  wishes,  my  preferences,  my  opinions  in  re- 
gard to  a  choice  of  school  and  of  a  field  of  labor,  and  he  will 
also  gladly  bestow  all  necessary  advice  and  information. 

"  I  leave  it  now  entirely  to  your  discretion,  your  convic- 
tions, your  decisions,  Anna.  Should  they  prove  adverse,  you 
will  never  speak  of  this  to  him,  neither  give  him  the  accom- 
panying letter.  In  this  case,  the  money  should  go  to  the  Mis- 
sions,where  it  will  still  work  for  Jesus,  only  it  would  be  sweeJ 


A  Message  from  the  Dead,  317 

in  heaven  to  know  that  T  could  call  the  laborer  by  name  I" 

Tendei'  words, — words  of  loving  cheer  and  en- 
couragement there  were  for  Anna  herself, — 
words  of  farewell  and  of  blessed  hope. 

"  So,"  said  Anna  with  a  sigh,  "  it  is  not  to  be 
I,  with  my  little  tithes,  who  will  educate  Rex. 
Heaven's  own  Mighty  Hand  has  taken  the  work 
from  my  weak  and  trembling  fingers." 

After  hours  of  thought,  she  placed  the  letter 
itself  in  the  hands  of  Rex,  and  left  him  to  the 
perusal  of  its  pages  and  those  of  his  own. 

He  returned  not  to  her  that  day.  She  waited 
calmly  and  cheerfully,  thankful  that  he  gave  it 
long  thought  and  prayer,  for  not  in  his  own  wis- 
dom would  she  have  him  accept  or  refuse  the 
trust.  During  the  day  following  she  had  scarce- 
ly a  glimpse  of  him,  but  in  the  evening,  as  she 
stood  under  the  maples,  looking  down  the  long 
vista  of  usefulness  which  was  opened  before  him 
by  Miss  Clemmer's  dying  hand,  she  saw  him  ap- 
proaching.    He  handed   her  the  letter  without  a 


318  Anna  May  lie. 

word.  As  lie  stood  by  the  gate,  looking  thought- 
fully away  into  the  moon-  lit  distance,  she  studied 
his  face.  Meditative  and  serious  still  were  brow, 
and  lip,  and  eye,  as  if  the  resolve  might  not  even 
yet  be  made.  She  doubted  not  that  the  call  was 
from  heaven.     Did  he? 

"  Well,  Eex?  "  she  said,  thoughtfully. 

He  turned.  "I  will  go,  Anna, —  shall  I  not? 
Whether  you  believe  in  my  devotion  to  the  work 
we  love,  I  need  not  ask.  If  there  had  been  a 
doubt,  you  would  not  have  placed  the  letters 
within  my  knowledge.  Perhaps  I  ought  to  have 
come  to  you  before  with  my  decision,  since  this 
bequest  makes  possible  my  most  ardent  desires, 
which  have  long  led  me  toward  the  path  to  which 
she  points.  But  even  yet  I  am  like  St.  Peter 
in  the  prison ;  after  the  light  shone,  and  the 
chains  fell  off,  and  the  angel  commanded  him  to 
follow,  he  followed  on  and  wist  not  it  was  true, 
but  thought  he  saw  a  vision. 

"  And,  Anna,  like  Peter  when  he  was  come  to 


A  Message  from  the  Dead. 


319 


himself,  I  can  say :  '  Now  I  know  of  a  surety 
that  the  Lord  hath  sent  His  angel.'  " 

As  he  said  "  Good  night,"  he  added, — "  Per- 
haps I  ought  to  say  that  I  presumed  to  copy  her 
letter  to  you,  Anna." 

But  of  his  own  he  spoke  not  at  all ;  and  Anna 
never  read  its  searching  pages  until  long  years 
after. 


CHAPTER  XX. 

m   THE   MEMORIAL   CHURCH. 

^EVEN  years  have  come  and  gone 
^  since  Miss  Clemmer  died.  Anna  May- 
lie  has  worked  on  alone,  on  Morris- 
/\  2  town  Common.  Only  is  this  Morris- 
town  Common?  For,  after  looking  as  long 
as  you  will,  there  are  only  three  or  four 
familiar  landmarks.  There  is  still  the  old  green, 
built  around  on  four  sides ;  and  the  four  roads 
cross  it  still  at  right  angles,  leading  out  to  B  — 
and  M  —  and  G  -^  and  H  —  .    But  how  changed 


In  the  Memorial  Church*  321 

even  the  old  green  is  !  Its  four  roads  are  skirted 
with  slender,  young  maples,  carefully  protected 
fi'om  possible  injury,  and  in  its  grassy  sections, 
evergreens  and  delicate  young  shade -trees  are 
growing.  There,  where  an  old,  deserted,  tum- 
bling blacksmith  -  shop  stood,  a  neat  stone 
church  has  risen,  with  arched  doors  and  windows, 
and  spires  and  pinnacles,  its  soft,  dark -grey 
blending  gravely  with  the  pleasant  green  of  the 
surrounding  trees.  Among  the  old  -  time  maples, 
white  houses  peep  out  on  every  side.  But  you 
are  m.ost  struck  with  the  thoroughly  cultivated 
appearance  of  the  land  around  you  on  every  side. 
You  see  that  trim  gardens  surround  every  house  ; 
indeed,  a  bird's  -  eye  view  gives  you  the  impres- 
sion that  the  landscape  is  one  vast  garden.  You 
look  around  for  the  old  rose  -  hidden  May  lie 
house,  with  its  four  strawberry  acres  ;  there  they 
are,  sloping  sunnily  south,  and  as  emerald  as 
ever ;  but  the  brown  house  is  gone.  In  its  place 
stands  a  pretty  buff  cottage,  with  long,  latticed 


322  Anna  Maylie, 

piazzas  and  low  windows.  And  it  is  impossible 
to  mistake  the  lady  in  black,  who  comes  to  the 
door  as  a  slender  boy  of  thirteen  bounds  through 
the  gate,  and  cries  mischievously,  "  Where's 
Anna  ?  He's  come !  I  saw  him  and  Prof. 
Auber  get  off  the  cars.  He  '11  be  here  soon  ! —  I 
told  Min,  and  she's  off  down  the  walk  to  meet 
him.  Prof.  Auber  went  off  with  Judge  Mans- 
field, though.  I  suppose  Miss  Rachel  is  waiting, 
too !  " 

Yes,  that  is  Mrs.  Maylie ;  and  you,  who  used 
to  hear  Anna  sing,  will  recognize  her  voice  at  the 
melodeon  within.  Through  these  years  she  has 
bravely  worked  on  alone.  The  boy  -  superin- 
tendent has  for  six  years  been  at  College  and 
Theological  Seminary.  Even  last  year  he  was 
not  with  her.  The  busy,  young  western  city, 
where  he  had  labored  so  many  vacations,  would 
not  give  him  up,  and  she  and  his  sister.  Lute, 
went  their  long  railway  journey  to  be  present  at 
his  ordination  and  installation.     She  left  him  to 


In  the  Memorial  Church,  323 

his  chosen  work,  and  came  back  among  her  own 
appointed  labors,  to  the  people  who  loved  her  so, 
to  the  sunny  scene  which  had  risen  from  the  dust, 
like  the  miracles  of  old,  in  answer  to  her  prayers. 
She  looked  upon  her  Sabbath  school, —  still  hers 
alone,  her  prayer  meeting,  her  church;  and  as 
she  thought  of  leaving  them,  there  tugged  at  her 
heart-strings  a  pain  akin  to  that  felt  in  the  sep- 
arations which  the  last  hour  brings.  She  felt  she 
could  never  love  any  people  as  she  loved  this 
earnest  congregation,  almost  every  member  of 
which  owed  the  comfort  of  the  daily  life  to  her 
influence  and  example. 

For,  after  her  first  success,  there  was  a  grand 
overturn  of  the  settled  order  of  things  on  Morris- 
town  Common.  "Women  came  to  her  for  encour- 
agement, and  men  for  information  and  advice. 
Encouragement,  information  and  advice  she  gave 
freely,  and  she  also  made  a  few  judicious  loans  of 
money.  Eachel  worked  with  her,  hand  in  hand, 
and  as  she  had  long   ago   proposed,  the  money 


324  Anna  Maylie. 

first  placed  at  Anna's  disposal  was  again  put  in 
needy  hands.  It  was  not  long  before  almost  ev- 
ery family  which  was  in  any  way  connected  with 
Anna's  school,  had  its  acre  of  strawberries,  its 
plantation  of  blackberry  and  raspberry  canes,  or 
its  market  garden.  Even  the  old  corner  saloon 
had  been  turned  into  a  manufactory  of  berry 
boxes  and  crates. 

Would  you  like  a  gHmpse  of  Anna,  herself? 
It  is  the  same  plump  figure,  the  same  bright  face. 
But  her  entire  demeanor  has  been  touched  with 
something  indescribable.  You  miss  the  olden 
abruptness,  and  are  conscious  of  only  a  graceful 
refinement.  The  old  earnestness  still  lends  its 
force  to  her  character,  but  in  her  voice,  words 
and  manner  it  is  mellowed  down  into  a  genial 
genuiuess,  which  is  at  once  attractive,  piquant  and 
irresistible. 

Now  that  she  can  choose  her  use  of  money,  in 
many  things  Anna  follows  Miss  Clemmer's  exam- 
ple.    She  makes  it  a  matter  of  principle  and  duty 


In  the  Memorial  Church,  325 

to  afford  employment,  whenever  she  can,  to  those 
who  need  assistance,  and  especially  to  those  who 
will  endeavor  to  excel  in  their  branch  of  labor. 
Last  year,  Lute  Palmer,  who  has  had  such  large 
experience  and  training  under  Anna's  own  eye, 
superintended  all  the  business  connected  with  the 
berry  lands, — several  acres  now  ;  for  in  the  early 
time  of  their  success,  Mrs.  Maylie,  acting  upon 
Judge  Mansfield's  advice,  had  purchased  a  goodly 
portion  of  adjoining  land  before  its  value  rose. 

For  two  years  now,  Anna  herself  has  been  ab- 
sent at  a  Ladies'  Seminary  in  Jersey  city,  thus 
fitting  herself  in  a  greater  degree  for  the  position 
awaiting  her.  But  the  people  of  Morristown 
Common  love  her  just  as  dearly  ;  they  look  upon 
her  elegance  and  ease  as  in  some  way  a  compli- 
ment to  themselves,  and  feel  that  all  her  happy 
fortune  sheds  its  light  over  the  entire  life  of  the 
Common.  She  is  still  their  Sunday-school  su- 
perintendent, their  adviser,  and  their  model  in  all 
things. 


326  Anna  Maylte* 

On  the  Common  it  is  etil]  "  Our  Anna,"  and 
"  Our  Eex." 

"  My  Rex  !  "  Anna  says  softly  to  herself,  to  - 
night,  as,  standing  at  the  window,  hidden  by  its 
curtained  folds,  she  has  one  glimpse  of  the  tall, 
slight,  familiar  form,  and  the  dark,  flushing  face, 
as  he  hurries  up  the  walk  with  little  Min,  to  meet 
Lute  and  Mary  waiting  at  the  gate. 


The  Sabbath  morning  to  which  all  Morristown 
Common  had  looked  forward  for  so  many  months, 
dawned  cool  and  sweet  without  a  cloud.  At  an 
early  hour,  the  families  of  the  Common  and  the 
hillside  flowed  into  the  new  stone  church, — the 
Memorial  church,  which  was  to-day  to  be  dedi- 
cated. 

And  presently  the  solemn  hush  which  befitted 
the  day  and  the  occasion  settled  upon  the  quiet, 
orderly,  well-dressed  congregation,  as  they 
were  vividly  reminded  on  either  side,  whose 
shadowy  hand,  reaching  from  the  World  Beyond, 


In  the  Memorial  Church,  327 

had  reared  this  church  among  them.  For  se- 
renely the  golden  September  sunshine  streamed 
in  softened  radiance  through  the  great  tender - 
hued  Memorial  Window,  pensively  touching  those 
rugged  faces  which  were  softening  now  beneath 
the  influence  of  the  holiest  feelings.  Tearful  eyes 
turned  again  and  again,  that  morning,  to  this 
Memorial  Window.  For  the  pure,  tender  face  of 
the  angel  who  stood  in  the  great  azure  expanse 
was  the  face  of  Miss  Clemmer.  They  remem- 
bered her  so  well,  as  they  had  seen  her,  more 
than  once,  standing  at  Anna's  gate,  and  looking 
pityingly  around  upon  the  scene  of  their  olden 
desolateness ;  and  the  artist  had  been  pathetic  in 
his  faithfulness.  And  the  story  of  her  pearls 
was  so  well  known,  that  there  were  those  who 
loved  to  fancy  that,  could  they  have  looked  upon 
the  face  of  the  kneeling  figure,  to  whom  the  angel 
reached  down  the  Bible,  they  would  have  seen  a 
face  familiar  to  them  all, — "  Our  Eex." 

Beneath,  engraved   upon  a  scroll,    in   golden 


328  Anna  May  lie, 

letters,  was  the  message,  "  Go,  preach  the  gospel 
to  every  creature." 

Still  below  was  the  plain  inscription  : 

"  Placed  in  the  Memorial  Church 

BY 

•  Mary  Gertrude  Clemmer, 

In  Memory  of  her  sister, 
Elizabeth  Sydney  Clemjmee." 

Perfect,  indeed,  was  the  simple  picture,  set 
within  the  panes  of  crimson,  and  purple,  and 
gold,    which  encircled  it  with  their  flashing  halo. 

They  turned  away,  only  to  study  the  inscrip- 
tion upon  the  base  of  the  pulpit.  The  desk  and 
platform  were  cut  of  some  dark  gray  stone,  pol- 
ished to  the  beauty  of  marble,  and  the  front  bore 
these  words : 

"  This  Memorial  Church  was  erected,    1869, 
By  John  Clemmer,     • 
In  memory  of  his  beloved  daughter, 
Eltzabet  Sydney  Clem^ier, 
Who  died  July  8th,  1862." 


In  the  Memorial  Church^  329 

The  story  of  their  church  had  long  been  fa- 
mihar.  There  was  not  one  present  who  did  not 
know  that  only  a  simple  marble  tablet  marked 
her  resting  place  in  the  cemetery,  and  that  her 
father  had  consecrated  her  inheritance  to  the  erec- 
tion of  this  fitting  monument  to  her  name.  And 
be  sure  there  was  not  one  tearless  eye,  or  one 
bead  which  did  not  bow  in  genuine  emotion,  as 
the  gray  -  haired  old  banker,  leaning  heavily 
upon  his  staff,  entered  the  church  that  morning, 
with  his  sole  remaining  daughter. 

The  house  filled  rapidly  as  the  usual  hour  of 
service  approached.  Many  of  the  grand  families 
of  Morristown  came  among  them  that  day ;  but 
it  was  no  new  thing  to  see  Judge  Mansfield  and 
his  daughter  in  their  midst.  Many  a  glance  of 
tender  interest  was  bent  upon  her  to  -  day,  for  so 
many  knew  that  the  grave  Professor,  who  had  so 
often  accompanied  Rex  home,  and  who  sat  now 
by  her  side  with  his  pale  forehead  and  dark 
dreaming  eyes,  would  this  time  bear  her  away  to 


330  Anna  Maylie. 

his  home  in  a  distant  city,  and  introduce  her  to 
a  new  and  different  sphere  of  life. 

As  the  first  bell  ceased  ringing,  the  choir  of  the 
Fourth  church,  Rex's  own  church,  filed  in, —  a 
swift,  bright  procession,  —  and  filled  the  sing- 
ers' seats.  As  Prof.  Kinney  struck  the  grand 
opening  chords  of  the  lofty  Te  Deum  Laudamus, 
they  heard,  for  the  first  time,  their  own  organ,  — 
Eachel's  gift  to  the  church  which  she,  too,  had 
loved  so  well. 

Then,  suddenly,  the  swift,  clear,  penetrating 
utterance  of  the  well  -  trained  sopmno  sang 
through  and  through  the  church,  and  a  hundred 
heads  turned  toward  the  singers. 

"  We  praise  Thee,  O  God ;  we  acknowledge 
Thee  to  be  the  Lord." 

In  grand,  swelling  chorus, the  whole  choir  made 
response : 

"  All  the  earth  doth  worship  Thee,  the  Father 
Everlasting." 

Again  and  again,  following  the   chorus,   the 


In  the  Memorial  Ghurch,  331 

solos, — swift,  and  trumpet  clear, —  rang  like  a 
piercing  voice  crying  through  the  heavens ;  and 
"  as  the  voice  of  a  great  thunder,"  the  organ  and 
the  choir  chanted  their  majestic  responses  : 

Sol. —  "  To  Thee  all  angels  cry  aloud  :  the 
heavens,  and  all  the  powers  therein. 

Cho. —  To  Thee  Cherubim  and  seraphim  con- 
tinually do  cry. 

Sol. —  When  Thou  hadst  overcome  the  sharp- 
ness of  death ; 

Cho. —  Thou  didst  open  the  kingdom  of  heav- 
en to  all  believers. 

Sol. —  Thou  sittestonthe  right  hand  of  God, 
in  the  Glory  of  the  Father ; 

Cho. —  We  believe  that  Thou  shalt  come  to  be 
our  Judge ; 

Sol. —  We  therefore  pray  Thee,  help  Thy 
servants  whom  Thou  hast  redeemed  with  Thy 
precious  blood ; 

Cho. —  Make  them  to  be  numbered  with  Thy 
saints  in  glory  everlasting." 


332  Anna  May  He, 

Awed,  thrilled  and  lifted  above  the  vanities  of 
time,  as  the  hearts  of  the  simple  congregation 
were,  I  doubt  not  they  would  have  been  more 
deeply  touched  and  stirred  with  the  simple  "  Hap- 
py Land"  of  their  first  evening  Sunday  school ; 
and  through  it  all,  I  know  they  missed  the  voice 
of  their  own  sweet  singer.  For  Anna  had  al- 
ways led  their  singing  ;  but  this  morning,  in  the 
pew  behind  Rachel,  she  sat  by  her  mother's  side, 
looking  like  some  happy  nun  in  her  delicate  dress 
of  silk,  with  the  white  spray  of  blossoms  in  her 
dainty  bonnet  resting  like  a  bridal  wreath  upon 
her  bright,  brown  braids.- 

There  was  a  slight  movement  at  the  door,  a 
slight  stir  running  through  the  congregation,  and 
then  the  regular  pastor  entered,  and  ascended  to 
the  pulpit,  followed  by  the  Rev.  Rexford  Palmer. 
Silence  rested  upon  the  people,  and  every  eye 
was  bent  upon  him  as  he  ascended  the  stairs. 
Every  eye  was  fastened  on  him  still  as  he  rose 
to  read  the  opening  hymn. 


In  the  Memorial  Church.  333 

He  had  not  quite  fulfilled  the  promise  of  his 
boyhood,  for  he  was  slighter  than  thej  could 
have  believed.  He  stood  before  them,  —  slender, 
tall,  and  grave,  with  an  eye  like  a  falcon,  and  a 
brow,  aye  and  a  voice,  too,  which  bespoke  the 
dignity  of  hia  calling.  Attitude,  gesture  and 
tone  betrayed  the  thorough  training  of  the 
schools,  and  long  hours  of  thought  had  left  their 
stamp  upon  his  features ;  but  scholarship  and 
culture  were  not  deeper  than  the  heart  of  the  man, 
for  his  cheek  burned  with  emotion  as  he  looked 
down  upon  that  sea  of  familiar  faces,  where  every 
eye  save  hers  was  lifted  to  his  face,  and  a  moist- 
ure gathered  over  his  eyes  as  he  remembered  his 
own  words,  and  Anna's  prayer,  that  long -ago 
Sabbath  evening  in  the  old  brown  house  among 
the  maples. 

Vividly,,  during  the  opening  services,  did  the 
old  days  pass  before  him  in  swift  review.  The 
barefooted  Eex  of  the  public  school  rose  in  sharp 
contrast  with  the  Rex  who  to-day  was    to  preach 


334  Anna  Maylie. 

the  dedicatory  sermon  of  a  church  on  Morristown 
Common ;  and  the  tremulousness  had  not  yet 
left  his  voice  as  he  rose  and  pronounced  the  words 
of  his  text : 

"  I  will  plant  in  the  wilderness  the  cedar,  the 
ehittah  tree,  and  the  myrtle,  and  the  oil  tree ;  I 
will  set  in  the  desert  the  fir  tree  and  the  pine,  and 
the  box  tree  together  : 

"  That  they  may  see,  and  know,  and  consider, 
and  understand  together,  that  the  hand  of  the 
Lord  hath  done  this,  and  the  Holy  One  of  Israel 
hath  created  it." 

Clear  and  distinct  the  opening  sentence  feii  on 
their  ears, — scarcely  one  tone  to  remind  them  of 
the  frank  voice  of  their  boy  -superintendent. 

"  To  ^  day  before  your  eyes  is  this  prophecy 
fulfilled.  Turn  your  gaze  upon  the  serene  Sab- 
bath landscape  without,  and  you  have  no  need  of 
my  sermon  ;  for  the  eloquence  of  that  literal  ful- 
fillment and  illustration  of  my  text  far  transcends 
all  human  expression. 


In  the  Memoiial  Church.  335 

"Let  me  recall  to  your  minds,  as  they  have 
been  recalled  to  mine,  this  morning,  the  words 
of  faith,  the  prophetic  utterances  of  prayer  which 
NQ  heard  at  our  first  Sabbath  school  on  Morris- 
town  Common,  nine  years  ago, — that  night  so 
memorable  to  me,  when  I  stood  in  your  midst  an 
humble,  ignorant  boy,  and  confessed  my  Saviour 
for  the  first  time.  Perhaps  many  of  you  will 
remember  these  words  : 

" '  I  can  look  onward  through  the  coming  years, 
and  I  can  see  the  church  rise  on  the  Common, 
and  I  can  see  the  families  of  all  these  houses 
thronging  through  its  doors.  No,  mothers,  you 
will  not  then  be  alone  with  your  little  children, 
but  fathers  and  brothers  will  go  with  you  into  the 
Courts  of  the  Lord.' 

"I  wonder  not  so  many  heads  go  down  in 
tearful  gratitude  that  God  has  honored  my  faith  I 
My  own  went  down  to  the  dust  with  prayers  of 
thanksgiving  the  day  I  read  that  there  was  a 
church  organized  on  Morristown  Common." 


336  Anna  Maylie. 

His  words  were  as  simple  as  his  emotion  was 
deep ;  and  when  he  turned  to  his  sermon  there 
was  not  a  tearless  eye  in  his  congregation. 

Constantly,  through  all  the  eloquence  of  his 
ringing  words,  a  sweet  and  long -hushed  voice 
sounded  in  Anna's  ear.  Tenderly  it  reminded 
her  of  that  olden  lesson  of  faith  which  she  was  so 
long  in  learning,  and  with  shadowy  finger  point- 
ing her  to  Eex  as  its  fulfillment ; — 

'*  First  the  blade,  then  the  ear,  after  that  the 
full  corn  in  the  ear." 

Tenderly  the  shadowy  cadences  of  'Miss  Clem- 
mer's  voice  seemed  to  float  along  the  masterful 
periods  of  the  sermon.  "  Being  dead,  she  yet 
speaketh,"  Anna  murmured  to  herself,  and  rev- 
erently she  felt  that  in  all  the  sermons  Rex  would 
preach,  and  in  all  the  good  he  would  do,  she 
should  hear  Miss  Clemmer's  voice  and  see  Miss 
Clemmer's  hand. 

Standing  in  her  memorial  church,  faithfully 
did  he  whom  she  had  educated  and  left  to  fill   her 


Jn  the  Memorial  Church,  337 

empty  place  in  the  Master's  field  enforce  the  les- 
son of  her  life.  And  as  Gertrude  listened  to 
his  impassioned  voice,  and  as  the  splendors  of 
noon  painted  that  beloved  name  in  letters  of  daz- 
zling light  she  felt  that  of  all  their  riches  only 
her  sister's  portion,  and  her  sister's  pearls,  had 
become  imperishable ;  they  would  shine  forever 
with  the  radiance  of  heaven. 

Blessed  are  the  dead  who  die  in  the  Lord, 
For  they  rest  from  their  lahors, 

A.nd  their  works  do  follow  them — do  follow,  do  follow,  do 
follow  them." 

It  was  a  strange  dedicatory  anthem,  but  by 
one  common,  irresistible  impulse  the  choir  found 
their  book  opening  to  these  words. 

The  solemn  strains  floated  through  the  quiet 
summer  spaces  of  Elizabeth's  Memorial  Church, 
and  sounded  in  Gertie's  ears  as  solemnly  as  on 
that  other  day,  seven  years  ago,  when  she  took 
her  last  tearful  look  of  that  lovely  face,  so  saint- 
ly, so  angelic  in  its  last,  coffined  repose. 
Through  the    years  which  followed,  she  had  not 


338  Anna  Maylie* 

been  uufaitbful  to  her  promise,  but  to  -  day  it 
was  as  if  the  inspired  hand  which  unclosed  the 
eyes  of  Paul  had  laid  its  unsealing  fingers  upon 
her  own  vision,  and  as  she  had  never  seen  it  be- 
fore, she  saw  on  every  side  the  waiting  work. 

As  the  last  strain  died  away,  and  the  people 
waited  for  the  benediction,  the  pastor  of  the 
church  came  down  from  the  pulpit  and  paused, 
and  the  wondering  multitude  sat  down.  With 
the  morning's  flame  of  feeling  still  burning  on  his 
cheek,  the  young  minister  descended  from  the 
pulpit,  and  walking  up  the  aisle,  paused  by  Mrs. 
Maylie's  pew.  With  a  sweet  rose  -  flush  upon 
her  cheek,  Anna  laid  her  hand  within  his  offered 
arm,  and  he  led  her  forward  to  the  altar,  and 
pausing  there,  in  the  presence  of  those  who  had 
loved  and  honored  them  so  many  years,  "  Our 
Anna"  and  "  Our  Rex"  were  wedded. 

The  organ  pealed  forth  once  more  its  strains 
of  triumphant  music  as  they  left  the  church. 
But,    as   their   humble,  loving    people  crowded 


In  the  Memorial  Church,  339 

around  them,  Anna  turned  from  her  husband's 
tender  eyes  and  gazed  upon  them,  and  she  felt 
again  the  old  heart  -  breaking  pain  of  that  fare- 
well which  in  her  thoughts  she  had  gone  through 
and  through  so  many  times  during  the  last  year. 
She  knew  there  would  never  any  people  love  her 
so  again,  and  she  felt,  with  a  prophetic  throb  of 
loneliness,  how  often,  among  the  educated  people 
of  Rex's  church  where  she  should  be, —  not  sim- 
ple Anna  May  lie,  loved  and  cherished  for  the 
good  she  had  wrought,  but  a  stranger  among 
strangers,  she  should  turn  back  to  Morristown 
Common  with  a  homesick  longing  for  the  old  love, 
and  the  old  faces,  and  the  old  work. 


CHAPTER  XXI. 
"let  her  own  works  praise  her." 

FEEL  that  my  storj  would  be  in* 
complete,  did  I  not  give  you  one  more 
glimpse  of  my  Anna,  as  Anna  May  lie 
Palmer.  For  I  should  not  like  to  have 
you  suppose  that  no  glorious  flower  has  blos- 
somed from  so  bright  and  rare  a  bud ;  that  her 
life  as  a  woman  is  less  unwortliy  of  study  and  of 
imitation  than  her  life  as  a  girl.  And  I  trust 
that  I  shall  round  my  history  of  her  career  of 
usefulness  with  this  closing  chapter,    as  a  perfect 


^^  Let  her  own    Works  Praise  Her,^^    341 

poem  is  rounded  at  the  close,  with  one  last, 
transcendent,  golden  vertse.  Doubtless  this  com- 
parison suggests  itself  because,  as  it  is  with  a  per- 
fect poem,  so  it  has  been  with  Anna's  life.  As 
the  one  thought  which  grows  with  every  line  of 
the  poem  finds  its  fullest  and  grandest  expression 
in  the  closing  stanza,  so  Anna's  life  is  rounded 
with  a  complete  accomplishment  of  her  old  de- 
sire to  be  always  at  work  for  Jesus,  for  she  has 
now  found  a  wide  and  exhaustless  field. 

To  -  night  is  Saturday  night  in  the  minister's 
home.  The  study -lamp  is  lighted  at  an  early 
hour  in  the  cozy  study,  for  Anna  and  Rex  always 
work  together  there  on  Saturday  evenings,  and 
the  lamp  is  lighted  early  and  burns  late  and 
long. 

The  house,  from  chamber  to  cellar,  from  par- 
lor to  wood-house,  is  in  complete  order  and  readi- 
ness for  the  morrow.  You  may  be  sure  that 
Anna  leaves  nothing  which  shall  mar  or  disturb 
the  peace  and   holiness  of  the  Sabbath.       She  is 


342  Anna  Maylie. 

still  a  Bible  Christian,  and  you  may  be  sure  that, 
conscientious  as  she  is,  she  has  regulated  her 
household  so  that  the  Sabbath  is  a  day  of  rest  and 
quiet  for  her  house  -  maid  as  well  as  for  herself. 
Simple,  Sabbath  morning  breakfasts,  and  plain, 
quiet  Sabbath  dinners  are  the  rule  at  the  parson- 
age ;  and  a  serene  stillness  and  peace  pervade 
the  entire  house  from  dawn  until  nightfall. 

In  the  pleasant  sittting-room,  near  the  clear, 
bright  hickory  fire,  sits  Anna's  mother,  reading 
by  the  shaded  lamp.  All  the  ease  and  comfort 
which  Anna  used  to  covet  for  her  mother,  she  is 
Qow  able  to  secure  to  her.  "Mother's  chair," 
the  most  cozy  and  restful  of  all  the  easy  chairs 
shown  for  Anna's  selection,  has  its  place  of  honor 
by  the  pleas antest  window  of  the  sitting  -  room. 
"  Mother's  bedroom"  opens  from  that  same  warm, 
cheerful  apartment.  "Mother's  books," — a 
strangely  -  assorted  little  pile, —  have  their  own 
particular  corner  on  the  great  table  under  the 
mirror,  where  she  can   reach  them  without  ris- 


**  Let  her  own  Works  Praise  Her.^^     343 

ill g  from  her  chair.  Yes,  they  are  aqueerly- 
selected  httle  pile,  especially  for  an  elderly  lady ; 
for,  along  with  her  Bible  and  hymn  book  and 
Pilgrim's  Progress,  lie  so  many  Sunday  -  school 
books, —  so  many  of  the  little,  old-fashioned 
publications  which  she  delighted  in  on  Morris- 
town  Common,  thirteen  years  ago.  In  her  eyes, 
none  of  the  new  books  compare  with  these  ;  and 
Rex  has  procured  editions  of  her  old  favorites  for 
her  with  infinite  pains.  The  Sunday  -  school 
children  of  these  days  will  hardly  remember  those 
titles  so  dear  to  Mrs.  Maylie,  and  to  me  also. 
Here  they  are: — "A  Peep  at  my  Neighbors," 
"  Cousin  Clara,"  and  its  ever  fascinating  sequel, 
"  Ellen  Carroll,"  and  best  of  all,  "Edward  and 
Miriam,"  with  their  strange,  weird  Icelandic  life. 
And,  strangest  of  all,  at  the  bottom  of  the  pile 
lies  an  old,  worn  tune  book.  It  is  the  Choral, 
—  Anna's  old  singing  book.  It  is  treasured  by 
them  both  as  a  memento  of  the  dead  ;  for  I  think 
their  eyes  never  rest   upon   it  without  seeing  him 


344  Anna  Maylie, 

as  he  stood  sino^ino^  that  lonoj  a 0^0  Sabbath,  for 
once,  in  the  midst  of  his  degradation,  clothed 
with  his  rightful  manhood  and  the  prerogatives  of 
his  native  intellect.  There  is  one  page,  yellow 
with  time  and  handling,  blotted  and  discolored  as 
nothing  but  tears  can  discolor.  In  solemn  hours, 
when  she  is  alone,  Mrs.  Maylie  takes  up  the  old 
singing  book  and  turns  to  this  one  page, —  the 
book  opens  there  now  of  itself, —  and  fresh  tears 
fall  as  she  reads  again  the  old  Sentence  he  chant- 
ed so  grandly  : 

"  The  Lord  bless  thee,  and  keep  thee." 
Yet  now  in  her  daughter's  home  she  is  happy, 
but  it  is  a  strange,  new  existence  for  one  whose 
whole  nature  has  been  so  long  dwarfed  and  re- 
pressed. Anna  seems  to  have  brought  to  life 
and  light  a  hundred  little  tastes  which  before  she 
was  never  conscious  of  possessing.  She  can  look 
back  and  see  how  many  years  she  was  scarcely  a 
woman, — -  only  a  mere  machine,  whose  almost 
only  human  prerpgatives  were  weariness  and  sor- 


"  Let  her  own  Works  Praise  Her,-*     345 

row.  She  sometimes  wonders  at  the  vivid  inter- 
est she  takes  in  everything  around  her.  She 
finds  herself  able  to  understand  and  sympathize 
with  all  the  wide  and  noble  work  of  Rex  and 
Anna,  and  she  knows  and  loves  many  of  their 
people.  She  feels  an  interest,  strong  as  any  she 
ever  knew  in  her  own  youth,  in  hearing  her  boy, 
her  bright,  gentle,  student  James,  talk  of  his 
studies  and  his  ambitions. 

Anna  scarcely  ever  enters  the  room  without  a 
little  involuntary  pause  to  regard  her  mother. 
How  sweet  and  peaceful  she  looks  in  her  cap  of 
soft,  white  lisse,  her  thin,  silken  hair  of  dark 
brown  showing  scarcely  a  thread  of  silver,  and 
her  worn  face,  always  mild  and  tender,  even 
though  sometimes  it  may  be  sad.  No  ;  Anna  is 
never  weary  of  regarding  her  mother,  and  real- 
izing that  no  mother  in  all  the  land  can  be  more 
carefully  shielded  and  beloved.  Eex  has  learned 
to  understand  that  gentle,  happy  expression  upon 
his  wife's  face  which  he  sees  so  often  as  she  comes 


346  Anna    Maylie, 

in  and  sits  down  in  her  chair  at  his  study  table, 
and  he  smiles  tenderly  upon  her.  He  thinks  her 
love  for  her  mother  one  of  the  most  beautiful 
traits  in  her  character,  and  for  this,  and  for  her 
hours  of  homesick  longing  for  the  old  love  and 
the  old  work  of  Morristown  Common,  he  has  al- 
ways a  tender  smile. 

To  -  night,  with  pen  and  pencil  lying  idle,  and 
the  morrow's  sermon  before  him,  he  has  been 
listening  half  an  hour  for  the  opening  of  the 
sitting-room  door,  and  for  her  step  in  the  hall. 
He  has  listened  patiently,  however,  for  he  knows 
that  she  must  first  be  sure  that  Mary  has  every- 
thing in  perfect  order  for  the  Sabbath.  He 
knows  that  she  must  even  see  with  her  own  eyes 
that  the  "  little  chamber  in  the  wall,"  the  "  Proph- 
et's chamber,"  is  in  readiness  for  any  brother 
minister,  or  chance  Society  agent,  who  may  come, 
hoping  to  find  a  home  with  them  over  the  Sab- 
bath. But  he  knows  also  that,  when  she  does 
come,  the  cares  of  the  week   are  laid  aside,   and 


*'  Let  her  own  Works  Praise  Her,^^     347 

heart  and  brain  and  hand  will  be  alike  co  -  labor- 
ers with  him  in  his  work. 

Both  faces  light  up  as  she  enters  at  last,  and 
sits  down  in  her  chair.  Then  he  reads  to  her  his 
sermon  for  to  -  morrow.  He  never  fails  to  do 
this.  Carefully  she  listens,  with  a  sharp  ear  and 
a  keen,  attentive  eye.  There  are  beautiful  pas- 
sages over  which  she  smiles  so  proudly,  close, 
pathetic  appeals  which  bring  the  tears,  yet  ear 
and  eye  remain  keen  for  the  next  passage,  and 
the  next.  And  finally,  as  some  ponderous  sen- 
tence rolls  forth,  she  speaks,  "  There,  Rex  !  " 

He  knows  what  she  means,  and  he  reads  that 
sentence  again. 

"  That  baffles  me,"  she  says.  "  It  is  not  suffi- 
ciently direct.  It  is  not  sufficiently  simple. 
You  ought  to  re  -  write  that.  You  must  not  go 
into  the  pulpit  with  a  sentence  that  I  can  not  un- 
derstand." 

He  does  not  answer,  but  reads  it  over,  gravely. 
She  smiles,  as  she  studies   his  face.     If  he  pon- 


348  Anna  May  lie, 

ders  too  long,  she  says,  quietly,  "  What  was  the 
idea  you  had  in  your  mind,  Rex?  If  you  will 
explain  it  to  me,  perhaps  I  can  assist  you." 

He  is  usually  able  to  explain  his  meaning  to 
her,  fully  and  clearly. 

Then  she  says,  "That  is  it.  I  understand 
that  perfectly ;  tell  your  people  as  simply  as  you 
have  told  me,  and  they  will  understand,  like- 
wise." 

After  that,  he  can  usually  write  his  thought 
easily.  She  is  always  thus  busy  with  her  clear, 
simple,  forceful  brain,  divesting  his  sermons  of 
their  grand  profundity  of  scholarly  logic,  and  ton- 
ing his  long,  rhythmic,  carefully  -  constructed  sen- 
tences down  into  appeals,  and  sharp,  simple  rea- 
sonings that  go  straight  to  the  heart  and  under- 
standing of  the  church. 

Bex  has  no  pride  in  this  matter.  He  humbly 
subjects  all  the  pride  and  all  the  trained  power  of 
his  intellect  to  the  one  great  end  of  his  service, — 
winning   souls  to   Christ ;  and  Anna  loves   hei 


"  Let  her'  own  Works  Praise  HerJ'^     349 

Master  so  that  she  knows  at  once  when  a  sentence 
of  her  husband's  sermon  wanders  from  that 
work. 

This  is  one  part  of  their  Saturday  night's  work. 
Then,  as  he  draws  her  chair  nearer,  she  supple- 
ments his  week  -  day  work  among  his  congrega- 
tion, with  accounts  of  her  own  visits.  "I  have 
been  poor,  and  I  have  seen  so  much  of  the  vari- 
ous troubles  of  poverty,"  she  says,  "  that  I  can 
get  nearer  than  you  can,  perhaps,  to  your  poor 
and  troubled  ones.  I  have  been  talking  with 
your  Sabbath- school  teachers.  Rex,  and  I  found 
Miss  Emma  Hart  so  discouraged  because  she  has 
done  her  class  no  good,  that  she  can  see.  And, 
Rex,  it  took  me  back  to  the  old  days  at  once, 
and  I  thought  of  her —  thought  of  Miss  Clemmer 
and  her  class.  Rex,  I  want  you  to  preach  a 
sermon  on  Especial  Work.  I  want  you  to  go 
among  the  teachers  and  appoint  especial  work. 
And  then,  perhaps,  we  shall  find  that  we  have 
Miss  Clemraers  in  our  own  church." 


350  Anna  Maylie, 

"  Have  you  made  out  your  list  of  the  desti- 
tute?" 

"  Yes ;  here  it  is.  Old  Mrs.  Bojnton,  that 
poor  old  lady  who  comes  to  church  so  regularly 
every  Sabbath,  and  does  me  so  much  good  with 
that  saintly  look  of  hers, — she,  Eex,  has  had 
neither  sugar  nor  tea  in  her  house  for  two  months. 
—  that  old,  old  lady !  I  felt  so  grieved  as  she 
told  me,  with  such  a  pained  blush,  and  such  a 
tremble  in  her  voice,  when  I  sat  down  to  take 
supper  with  her,  why  she  couldn't  offer  me  a 
cup  of  tea.  Please  mention  this  to  Brother 
Maitland. 

"  Then  there  is  Sister  Carr's  family.  I  think 
they  have  not  sufficient  bedding  to  render  them 
comfortable  through  the  winter.  I  could  see 
that  there  was  only  one  thin  comfortable  on  their 
bed,  and  I  believe  the  children's  are  as  scantily 
supplied.  But  I  will  see  the  ladies  of  the  Aid 
Society  myself  in  relation  to  this.  And  here, 
Bex,  is   my   completed   list  of    families  for  the 


**  Let  her  own  Worlcs  Praise  Her*'*     351 

Christmas  barrel  of  flour.  There  are  fourteen 
families  in  our  church  who  will  probably  have  a 
hard  time  to  get  through  the  winter ;  and  if  they 
can  have  just  this  little  help,  it  will  tide  them 
over  until  spring  comes  with  better  times." 

Eex  took  the  list  and  read  it.  "  Here  is  Broth- 
er Scott's  name,  I  see.  I  have  suspected  as 
much  ;  but  I  could  n't  wring  it  from  him,  that  he 
was  in  any  way  troubled  or  embarrassed ;  but 
you,  dear,  you  found  it  out,  didn't  you?"  And 
he  kissed  her  wdth  as  much  of  admiration  as 
fondness. 

He  carefully  laid  aside  the  list.  "  God  bless  the 
men  who  hold  up  my  hands  !  "  he  exclaimed,  the 
old,  frank,  earnest  look  of  his  boyhood  shining 
on  his  face.  "Brother  Kempt,  and  Brother 
Maitland,  and  Brother  Kingsbury  wouldn't 
shrink,  or  murmur,  if  it  were  forty  barrels  of 
flour  instead  of  fourteen,  —  God  bless  these 
great.  Western  hearts  !  " 

Anna  smiled  at  her  husband's  fervor.     "  It   is 


352  Anna  Maylie, 

not  because  they  are  "Western  men,  my  foolish 
Eex  !  "  she  said,  "  but  it  is  because  their  souls  are 
full  of  the  love  of  God.  God  keep  our  church  so 
tender-hearted,  I  pray!  Hark!  did  not  that 
sound  like  the  hack  stopping  here  ?  " 

They  had  both  caught  the  sound  of  bells  and 
the  sharp  tramp  of  horses  up  the  hard,  trodden 
street.  A  moment,  —  and  they  heard  the  gate, 
the  sound  of  trunks  going  down  on  the  sidewalk, 
quick  footsteps,  and  then  a  sharp  ring  at  the 
door -bell. 

"Sit  still,  Anna,  I  will  go.  I  think  it  is 
Brother  Halstead  from  the  Falls,  and  perhaps  his 
wife ;  he  thought  they  might  visit  us  this  week  or 
next,  but  I  had  quite  forgotten  to' speak  of  it." 

Anna  sat  idly  listening.  She  heard  the  door 
open, —  heard  an  unusually  hearty  greeting  from 
Rex,  —  two  or  three  voices  mingling, — and 
surely  that  was  a  lady's  voice,  — ;  a  lady's  voice 
that  was  strangely  familiar,  and  Anna  sprang  to 
her  feet,  just  as  Rex  called,    "  Here,  little  home- 


"  Let  her  own  Works  Praise  Her.^^    353 

sick  !     Come  out !    here's    something   for  you  !  " 
It  flashed  over  her  who   had   come,   and  she 

rushed  into  the  hall,  and,  yes,  — it  was  —  it  was 

Kachel,  and  she  was  clasped  in  her  arms. 

"  Anna   May  lie  !    Anna   May  lie  !     How    glad 

and  thankful  I  am  to  look  upon  your  face  once 

more !  " 

Rachel  turned  often  at  the  tea  -  table  to  look  at 
Anna,  who  was  regarding  her  with  something  of 
the  old  bewilderment.  Her  eyes  filled  more  than 
once,  and  she  said,  with  a  little  laugh  which 
was  more  like  a  sob  than  a  laugh,  however,  — 
**  I  have  no  fancy  for  remembering  to  -  night  what 
dignified  stations  in  life  we  occupy,  Anna,  nor 
that  a  grave  minister  and  a  grave  professor  sit 
opposite.  We  will  have  our  talk  of  the  old 
times  just  the  same,  for  I  go  over  the  old  cam 
paign  again,  the  moment  I  see  you,  Anna.  Oh, 
it  was  such  brave  work  !  such  thorough  work ! 
and  I  like  to  live  it  over  again,  —  those  old  days 


354  Anna  Maylie, 

in  the  strawberry  grounds,  and  tlie  Sabbath - 
school  of  Morristown  Common." 

"  I  expected  those  old  Common  days  to  come 
up  presently,"  her  husband  said  with  a  smile. 
"  Eachel  tries  to  regulate  her  life  according  to 
the  old  employments  still,  and  she  must  needs 
establish  a  school  in  memory  of  the  old  one. 
She  has  a  flourishing  Ragged  School,  I  assure 
you ;  and,  besides,  I  am  obliged  to  go  with  her  a 
mile  regularly  every  Sabbath  evening  to  her  Five 
Points  Bible  class." 

"We  both  married  missionary  girls,"  said  the 
minister  in  reply.  "To-morrow  night  I  must 
take  you  over  into  Anna's  parish." 

"  Yes,  Rex,"  cried  Anna  with  a  beaming  look. 
"  We  will  take  them  over  into  Dallas.  Rachel, 
I  want  you  to  see  my  people  there,  —  my  west- 
ern people,  in  one  of  these  new  settlements. 
Morristown  Common  in  its  primitive  state  will 
seem  to  you  one  of  the  centers  of  civilization  in 
comparison.     But,  Rex,  we  forget ;    she  may  not 


*^Let  her  own  Works  Praise  Her^     355 

be  able  to  stand  the  ride ;  do  you  think  you 
could,  Rachel?  Eight  miles  in  an  open  cutter 
in  this  keen  air?  eight  miles  there,  and  then 
eight  miles  back  home  again  ?  " 

Prof.  Auber  regarded  his  wife  with  grave 
solicitude,  and  slowly  shook  his  head.  But 
Eachel's  black  eyes  kindled  and  glowed.  "  In- 
deed I  can.  I  am  going,  Carl ;  only,  I  do  not 
quite  understand  yon,  Anna.  1  do  not  quite 
understand  where  it  is  we  are  going.  I  supposed 
that  your    husband's    church  was  a  city  church." 

"So  his  church  is.  It  is  mine  we  are  speaking 
of.  It  is  mine,  —  it  is  I  whom  those  people 
especially  love.  Eex  goes  principally  to  preach 
the  sermons,  but  in  all  things  he  allows  me  my 
own  way  over  there." 

"And  here,  also,  as  you  will  see,"  interpolated 
Rex. 

"But,  I  do  not  fully  understand  yet,"  per- 
sisted Rachel.  "Have  you  really  a  separate 
work    from   your   church   here    in    the    city  ? " 


356  Anna  Maylie, 

"  Yes,"  said  Rex,  "  we  have  a  mission  work  of 
our  own, —  a  little  unsalaried  mission  which  par- 
ticularly delights  Anna.  I  would  not  tell  her 
many  particulars  in  relation  to  it,  if  I  were  you," 
lie  added,  turning  to  Anna,  "for  it  is  the  only 
thing  we  have  in  store  which  will  be  at  all  a  sur- 
prise. 

After  tea,  the  gentlemen  went  down  town  for 
the  evening  mail,  and  Anna  and  Rachel  drew 
their  easy  chairs  into  Mrs.  May  lie's  cozy  corner 
for  a  chat  over  the  days  and  the  people  of  Lang 
Syne ;  for,  during  the  previous  summer,  Eachel 
had  visited  home. 

"  I  sat  once  more  in  her  church,"  she  said  in  a 
tender  voice,  "  and  that  Sabbath,  Anna,  I  saw 
Agnes  Green,  and  pretty,  lisping  Ginnie  Peters- 
ham baptized.  And  I  remembered  then,  that 
they  were  your  first  scholars." 

"Yes,  bashful,  little  Ginnie.  How  strange  it 
seems  that  she  is  now  sixteen  !  I  remember  — 
don't  you,   Mother?  all  that  first  evening,   in- 


"  Let  her  own  Works  Praise  Her.^^     357 

stead  of  ^  Suffer  little  children  to  come  unto  me  ! 
she  would  persist  in  saying,  '  Suffering  little 
children  I  come  unto  me  ! '  and  I  remember  that  I 
thought  her  little  mistake  a  very  sweet  one. 
Lute  writes  to  us  that  Mary  plays  your  organ, 
Eachel." 

"Yes,  and  she  plays  it  well.  I  like  to  look  at 
Mary's  grave,  noble  face.  I  never  before  saw  so 
young  a  girl  so  serious  and  dignified.  Her  faint, 
slow  smile  is  like  the  light  when  the  sun  breaks 
through  the  clouds  upon  a  still,  grey  day.  I  am 
glad  Lute  has  decided  to  send  her  to  Mt.  Hol- 
yoke.  You  know,  do  you  not,  dear  Anna,  who 
stands  in  your  old  place  as  teacher  of  the  Wom- 
en's Bible  Class  ?  " 

"Yes,  Lute  has  written  us.  I  hardly  ex- 
pected anything  like  that  of  Fanny." 

"^  Fanny  Ho wland  is  utterly  changed,  Anna 
I  did  not  expect  to  see  any  such  radical  change. 
I  believe  she  was  away  at  school  several  years, 
and  only  returned  the  summer  we  bade  good  -  bye 


358  Anna  Maylie, 

to  Morristown.  But  you  can  recollect,  can  you 
not,  how  gaily  she  used  to  dress  ?  I  do,  at  least ; 
for  I  know  I  used  to  think  her  vain  and  frivolous, 
and  that  she  possessed  little  depth  of  character ; 
but  I  was  quite  mistaken.  Fanny  now  dresses 
much  more  plainly  than  you  do,  Anna ;  she  is 
almost  severe  in  matters  of  dress.  Indeed  her 
sister, — you  remember  Mrs.  Fred  Graham  of 
course, —  is  quite  out  of  patience  with  Fanny's 
kind  of  religion.  She  is  indeed  very  strict,  and, 
so  far  as  society  is  concerned,  almost  a  recluse. 
But  she  visits  the  poor.  I  really  believe  there  is 
not  an  attic  or  a  tenement  house  in  Morristown 
that  has  not  been  visited  by  Fanny  Howland  and 
her  inexhaustible  basket.  I  saw  her  twice  dur- 
ing my  stay,  going  down  to  your  school  Sabbath 
noon.  She  is  a  member  of  Dr.  Mason's  church, 
and  attends  service  there ;  but  at  noon  she  regu- 
larly walks  the  mile  and  a  half  to  reach  your 
Bible  class, —  her  Bible  class  now.  Does  it  not 
seem  strange  to   you?     Remembering  how   she 


^^  Let  her  own  Works  Praise  HerJ*^     359 

used  to  delight  in  ribbons,  and  flowers,  and 
plumes,  and  all  the  latest  fashions,  especially  if 
they  were  somewhat  remarkable,  I  could  not  re- 
frain from  looking  long  at  her,  dressed  so  plainly. 
She  wore  a  lusterless  black  silk  without  a  ruffle 
or  a  fold,  a  closely  buttoned  basquine  to  match, 
and  a  white  chip  hat  with  merely  a  white  lily  and 
its  leaves  in  front,  and  her  face  was  calm  and 
serious,  as  if  she  were  reflecting  deeply  upon  her 
mission.  She  seemed  utterly  unlike  the  Fanny 
Ilowland  I  had  known.  She  is  never  present  at 
any  of  Mrs.  Graham's  re -unions,  Gertie  told 
me." 

"Dear  Gertie,  what  of  her?  " 

"  She  is  at  home  ;  her  health  is  very  delicate  ; 
I  saw  her  several  times  ;  she  is  growing  to  look 
more  and  more  like  her,  Anna." 

There  was  a  long  pause  for  Anna.  Mrs. 
May  lie  spoke  of  this  one,  and  that  one,  and  then 
Anna  asked, —  "My  people  on  the  Common? 
I  tliink  of  them  nearly  every  day,  and  with  great 


360  Anna  Maylie, 

interest.  There  is  a  steady  improvement  among 
them,  is  there  not?  " 

"  Yes,  Anna,  I  think  there  is.  They  are 
really  prosperous.  I  walked  over  there  one  af- 
ternoon, and  called  on  eight  or  ten  different  fami- 
lies,—  families  where  1  had  been  with  you  in  the 
beginning  of  the  change ;  and  I  am  sure  they  are 
really  prosperous.  Most  of  them  are  giving 
their  children  a  good  education.  Agnes  and 
Ginnie  are  in  the  advanced  classes,  Prof.  Kinney 
told  me.  And,  do  you  know,  two  -  thirds  of  your 
girls  have  their  regular  music  teacher  ?  and  I  can 
not  tell  you  how  many  melodeons  and  cabinet 
organs  there  are  on  the  Common." 

Anna  smiled  musingly  and  lovingly  over  the 
thought  of  her  girls, —  her  little  brown  -  faced, 
bare  -  legged  girls,  who  spent  their  days  like 
gipsies,  skipping  over  the  green,  at  the  time 
wlien  she  first  gathered  them  into  her  school. 
She  tried  to  fancy  them  now,  demurely  listening 
to  the  instructions  of  their  teachers  in  music  and 


"  Let  her  own  Works  Praise  Her.^^     363 

the  languages,  and  kindling  in  face  and  spirit  aa 
new  truths  broke  upon  them. 

"  They  like  the  minister  they  have  ?  "  she  in- 
quired. 

"Yes,  they  like  him  cordially;  of  course  not 
quite  as  they  like  your  husband.  The  best  and 
ablest  men  and  women  in  all  the  Morristown 
churches  could  never  do  for  them  v^hat  Rex  and 
Anna  have  done  ;  but  they  like  their  pastor,  and 
they  pay  his  salary  themselves,  with  no  aid  what- 
ever from  father  or  Mr.  Clemmer, —  They  are 
coming,  are  they  not?  How  cold  it  must  be 
when  every  step  gives  forth  that  sharp,  crunch- 
ing sound  ! " 

The  gentlemen  entered,  and  Kex  handed  Anna 
a  letter.  "From  Morristown,  as  usual;  but  this 
time  I  do  not  recognize  the  hand." 

"  Neither  do  I,"  said  Anna,  looking  at  the 
heavy  letter.  Rachel's  eye  caught  the  mono- 
gram. "  F.  L.  H.  ?  "  she  repeated,  "  F.  L.  H.  ? 
Why,  those  are  Fanny's  initials,  Anna." 


362  Anna  Maylie. 

Anna  shook  her  head  as  she  opened  the 
letter.  "  No,  that  can  not  be,  for  we  are  scarcely 
acquainted. — Why — it  is, Rachel !  What  can  she 
have  written  to  me  about  ?  for  this  is  a  very  long 
letter.     Excuse  me,  if  I  read  it." 

She  read  a  few  lines,  and  then  paused  with  a 
sudden  exclamation.  "  Mother,  Squire  Howland 
is  dead !  And  he  died  bankrupt !  Is  it  not 
strange  ?  Poor  Fanny !  Shall  I  not  read  this 
aloud?  It  will  be  of  interest  to  us  all." 

"  MORRISTOWN,  N.  Y.,  Dec.  20, 1871. 

"  My  Dear  Anna : — 

"  I  certainly  have  not  the  presump- 
tion to  write  to  you,  claiming  the  consideration  due  to  an  old 
friendship ;  yet  it  is  because  I  knew  you  so  well  in  those  days 
when  I  might  have  had  your  friendship,  that  I  am  writing  to 
you  now.  For  I  am  in  trouble  where  I  sorely  need  the  sym- 
pathy of  a  large  heart  and  the  counsel  of  a  clear  brain.  Allow 
me  to  tell  you  how  I  am  situated,  in  as  few  words  as  possi- 
ble. My  father  is  dead;— I  think  it  will  give  you  a  shock 
Anna,  for  you  and  your  mother  always  liked  father,  I  remem- 
ber,— poor  father  I  Every  one  liked  him;  he  was  only  too 
faithful  a  friend.  If  he  had  laid  Solomon's  crafty  precept  to 
heart, — 

*  *'  My  son,  if  thou  be  surety  for  thy  friend,  if  thou  hast 
stricken  thy  hand  with  a  stranger, 


*^ Let  her  own  Works  Praise  Her, ^^     363 

"  *  Thou  art  snared  with  the  words  of  thy  mouth,  thou  art 
taken  with  the  words  of  thy  mouth,'— 

how  different  it  would  have  been  for  his  family  to-day ;  for  we 
are  literally  penniless,  Anna.  There  are  many,— and  my  sis- 
ter, Mrs.  Graham,  among  the  number,— who  say  that  we  arc 
penniless  only  because  we  choose  to  be.  Yet  neither  mother 
nor  myself  felt  that  we  could  do  less  than  give  up  the  house 
and  the  furniture  to  pay  father's  indebtedness.  I  trust  you 
will  not  think  of  me  longer  as  the  vain,  heartless,  selfish 
Fanny  Howland  whom  you  used  to  know  in  the  old  days  of 
our  Sabbath-school  class,  when  I  assure  you  that  I  have 
placed  all  my  personal  possessions  of  any  value,  together  with 
my  piano  and  library,  in  the  hands  of  those  who  are  settling 
father's  estate.  Mother  has  given  up  literally  everything, 
even  to  father's  watch,— poor  mother!  that  cost  her  a  sore 
heart  -  ache !  I  would  have  paid  its  value,  and  retained  it  for 
her,  had  it  been  possible  for  me,  by  any  sacrifice,  to  raise  a 
sufficient  sum.  Yet  as  it  is,  we  have  not  sufficient  to  meet  the 
demands.  Father's  store  and  entire  stock  of  goods  are  in  the 
possession  of  the  New  York  creditors;  the  horses  and  carriage 
are  sold;  we  have  saved  no  souvenirs  of  the  old  life.  I  tell 
you  all  this.  Anna,  because  I  remember  you  as  being  so  en- 
tirely conscientious  and  scrupulous.  I  wish  you  might  believe 
me,  that  I  have  found  myself  asking  so  many  times, '  Would 
Anna  May  lie  have  done  thus? '  instead  of '  Is  it  right?' " 

As  Anna  read  these  words,  a  hot  blush  suffused 

her  face,    and    she   stopped    short.     "  I  had   not 

looked  over  the  letter,  you  know,"  she  said,  dep- 

recatingly.      Kachel     laughed,    a   tender     little 


364  Anna  Maylie. 

laugh,  and  looked  around  at  Rex,  but  he  seemed 
absorbed  with  his  own  thoughts. 

Anna  refused  to  go  on  with  the  letter.  "  Poor 
Fanny  has  a  very  exaggerated  opinion  of  me." 

"  I  shall  presume  to  finish  it  then,"  said  Kachel, 
reaching  for  the  letter, — "  if  1  may  ?  I  can  pe- 
ruse it  without  the  slightest  embarrassment." 

Anna  offered  no  resistance,  and  Eachel  pro- 
ceeded  : 

"  I  only  tell  you  this,  as  a  matter  of  justice  to  myself,  be- 
cause I  have  yet  to  ask  a  great  favor  of  you,  and  I  know  you 
might  well  hesitate  to  receive  the  Fanny  Howland  you  once 
knew,  into  your  household.  We  are  all  penniless,  Anna,  and 
as  I  am  the  only  one  who  can  earn  a  living,  I  must  make 
haste  to  do  it.  Yes,  Anna,  the  rest  of  my  life  I  must  '  work 
for  a  living;'    but,  believe  me,  I  do  not  shrink." 

Rachel's  eyes  flashed  triumphantly  as  she  read 
that.  "And  I  used  to  think  Fanny  shallow!" 
she  said,  "  but  how  bravely  she  lifts  her  bur- 
den." 

She  went  on  with  the  letter : 

"  Mother  will  go  to  Mrs.  Graham's.  I  have  not  objected, 
for  sister  Julia  is  really  a  good  daughter.  She  loves  mother  aa 
tenderly  as  I  do.    I  shall  have  no  cause  for  anxiety  concern- 


^^  Let  her  own  Works  Praise  Her,^^     365 

ing  her  comfort  when  I  am  away.  Sister  and  her  husband 
make  me  welcome  there  also,  but  I  feel  that  they  both  censure 
me  because  everything  has  been  given  up  to  the  creditors,  and 
I  think  I  might  often  find  it  unpleasant,  even  if  I  were  willing 
to  be  dependent  upon  sister's  bounty.  ilSTeither  am  I  willing 
that  little  Lilian  should  go  there,— you  may  not  remember 
little  sister;  she  is  a  girl  of  twelve  years,  and  attached  to  me, 
and  I  would  prefer  to  keep  her  under  my  own  influence.  I 
can  not  bring  myself  to  give  her  up  to  sister  Julia,  and  see  her 
grow  up  a  gay  butterfly,— a  copy  of  my  own  Mvolous 
youth. 

"  I  have  taken  counsel  of  no  one.  But  I  have  been  led  by 
an  impulse  which  I  can  not  resist,  to  write  to  you,  and  ask  you 
and  your  husband  to  befriend  me  if  you  can,  and,  in  any 
event,  to  give  me  your  advice. 

"Father  gave  me  the  opportunity  of  gaining  a  fine  educa- 
tion. My  teachers  were  thorough,  and  wakened  both  my 
brain  and  my  ambition,  and  providentially  I  find  myself  pre- 
pared to  teach  every  branch  of  study  which  is  pursued  in  a 
regular  course,  and  I  am  conscious  of  possessing  a  trained 
and  disciplined  mind.  I  say  this,  to  explain  my  confidence 
in  my  ability  to  support  myself  and  little  Lilian. 

"  I  would  like  a  position  as  teacher  somewhere  in  the  "West, 
and  I  wish  to  take  Lilian  with  me.  Above  all,  Anna,  I  would 
like  to  come  into  your  own  househould  for  a  few  years.  You 
see  I  have  my  dream,— my  plan.  Perhaps  Mr.  Palmer  would 
ascertain  the  possibilities  of  procuring  a  situation  for  me  in 
the  schools  of  your  city.  I  am  competent  to  teach  in  any  de- 
partment, and  I  do  not  know  that  I  have  any  choice.  If  his 
search  should  prove  successful,  would  you  consent  to  take 
Lilian  and  myself  into  your  family  as  boarders  ?  Think  of  us 
before  you  refuse. 


366  Anna  Maylie, 

"  Rachel  has  told  me  what  your  influence  in  your  daily  life 
has  done  for  her ;  and  I  need  your  training,  Anna;  I  need 
your  example.  I  want  to  work  for  Jesus  as  you  have  worked. 
I  want  Lilian  to  grow  up  in  a  family  like  yours.  Dear  Anna 
I  want  you  to  take  us  both  and  educate  us  for  a  grand  and  no- 
ble womanhood,  as  Christian  women. 

"  Your  husband  is  a  stranger  to  me  personally,  but  there  is 
no  household  in  the  world  where  I  turn  with  such  confidence 
as  I  turn  to  yours,  with  these  requests.  The  '  Anna,'  and  the 
*  Rex'  of  the  Common,  where  I  too  have  labored  so  long,  are 
a  hope  and  an  inspu'ation  to  me  also. 

'« I  shall  be  in  readiness  to  come,  ifl  am  summoned,  even 
for  the  new  term  after  the  holidays. 

"  Trusting  that  henceforward  you  will  remember  me  only 
for  what  I  hope  to  become,  I  am, 

"  Yours  Sincerely, 
**  Fannt  Lorraine  HowiiAND." 

Rachel  laid  down  the  letter,  and  the  circle  sat 
around  the  fire  in  thoughtful  silence.  Finally 
Kex  said, — "  Miss  Molyneux,  the  French  teacher 
at  the  Seminary,  wishes  to  go  to  Milwaukee.  I 
heard  Professor  Hitchcock  speaking  of  it  yester- 
day. If  Miss  Rowland  is  really  competent,  I 
am  confident  that  I  can  secure  the  situation ;  but 
Anna,  how  could  you  take  them  ?  " 

Anna  looked  up  with  bright,  tearful  eyes.     "  I 


"  Let  her  own  Works  Praise  HerJ*^     367 

could.  Rex,  if  it  is  my  duty.  I  never,  never 
could  turn  away  one  of  her  girls." 

For,  as  she  sat  there,  her  heart  had  warmed 
strangely  toward  the  supplicating  Fanny,  and, 
truly,  there  had  been  treasured  up  in  her  heart 
no  pique  to  stifle,  no  grudge  to  cast  out,  no  re- 
membered slights  to  forgive.  She  thought  of  her 
only  as  the  Fanny  whom  Miss  Clemmer  had 
loved  and  prayed  for,  with  so  many  tears  ;  she 
saw  her  only  as  standing  alone,  and  stretching 
out  her  hands  to  her.  How  strange  that  it  should 
be — to  her  ! 

"  Carl  could  easily  procure  a  situation  for 
Fanny.  I  know  she  is  thoroughly  competent," 
said  Eachel.  "  I  would  not  hesitate  for  a  mo- 
ment to  receive  them  into  our  own  family ;  but, 
indeed,  Anna,  I  honor  Fanny's  judgment ;  this  is 
truly  the  place  for  her  and  for  Lilian." 

When  Anna  and  her  husband  were  alone  that 
night,  Anna  said,  "  We  must  let  them  come, 
Rex.     We  ought  not  to  hesitate  for  a  moment. 


368  Anna  Maylie, 

If  Mary  and  I  find  the  additional  labor  too  much, 
as  we  doubtless  shall,  why,  we  are  able,  are  we 
not,  to  employ  additional  help?  I  should  really 
like  to  take  Janie  Comstock,  Mary's  sister,  you 
know,  into  our  own  family.  She  is  living  at  Mr. 
McMillan's,  and  she  is  deprived  of  all  privileges. 
She  can  scarcely  attend  church  at  all,  even  on 
Sabbath  evening,  on  account  of  the  Sunday  com- 
pany and  extra  work.  Mary  has  often  expressed 
a  wish  that  she  mioht  have  a  Christian  home." 

"  And  you,  little  woman,  would  be  very  glad, 
I  see,  to  have  a  reasonable  excuse  for  taking  her? 
Well,  Fanny,  and  Lilian,  and  Janie,  shall  all 
come ! " 


At  an  early  hour  Rachel  and  Anna  seated 
themselves  in  the  minister's  pew  ;  for  Anna  had 
said, —  "  I  would  like  you  to  see  our  people  as 
they  come  in."  She  had  not  sat  there  long,  look- 
ing about  her  as  strangers  will,  before  she  felt 
that  she  was   breathing   an  entirely    new  atmos- 


^^  Let  her  own  Works  Praise  Her"    369 

phere.  At  the  first  moment  of  entering,  the 
building  had  struck  her  as  being  singularly  new 
and  bright,  and  she  became  aware  now,  for  the 
first  time,  as  she  attempted  to  define  the  differ- 
ence, that  the  church  in  which  they  worshiped 
when  at  home  was  carefully  toned  down  to  a 
"dim,  religious  light."  As  the  house  began  to 
fill,  she  soon  perceived  another  and  a  greater 
difference  ,  and  it  was  not  like  Rachel  to  allow 
this  consciousness  to  fade  until  she  had  determined 
its  cause.  She  soon  saw  that  this  difference  was 
to  be  found  in  the  manner  in  which  the  cons^resfa- 
tion  entered  the  church.  The  Eastern  congrega- 
tion approached  the  Sanctuary  with  a  look  en- 
tirely distinct  from  the  work  -  day  expression  rest- 
ing upon  their  faces,  and  with  an  inherited  con- 
sciousness of  the  solemnity  of  Sabbath  services, 
constraining  them  to  a  slower  step  and  to  a  more 
di2:nified  bearino'.  Here,  these  business  men 
came  in  like  business  men.  That  they  were  aa 
thorough  in  their   religion  as  in    their  business, 


370  '        Anna  May  lie. 

Eachel  did  not  doubt ;  but  how  brisk  the  air,  how 
springing  the  step,  how  alert  and  restless  the 
glance  of  the  eye  !  And  ladies  and  children  en- 
tered in  the  same  brisk  manner.  She  missed  the 
Eastern  air  of  repose  and  gravity  on  every  side, 
—even  in  their  pastor's  step  when  at  last  he  en- 
tered and  ascended  the  pulpit  stairs.  He,  too, 
had  caught  the  spirit  of  the  great  West,  and  it 
was  almost  a  relief  when  he  rose  to  read  the  les- 
son for  the  day,  to  recognize  again,  in  his  voice 
and  bearing,  the  culture  and  the  training  of  the 
schools. 

She  had  retained  a  vivid  remembrance  of  his 
dedicatory  sermon  in  the  Memorial  church,  and 
she  was  now  surprised  to  see  the  change, — 
how  startlingly  direct  his  sermon  was,  how  forci- 
ble,— so  little  of  speculation, — -so  little  of  the 
pure,  abstract  thought  in  which  her  German  hus- 
band loved  to  indulge,  but  how  closely  adapted 
to  the  wants  of  his  consTreojation,  she  could  not 
help  admitting.     He  was    evidently   preaching  a 


^^  Let  her  own  Works  Praise  Her J^     371 

practical  religion  to  a  practical  church.  But  it 
was  not  in  any  sense  the  scholarly  sermon  of  the 
East;  and,  at  first,  Rachel  was  tempted  to  feel 
disappointed,  practical  Christian  though  she  was. 
For  she  had  her  cherished  ideal  of  a  minister  and 
his  sermon,  and  she  had  looked  for  Rexford 
Palmer  to  approach  this  ideal.  Yet  as  his  eye 
burned  and  his  dark  cheek  flushed  with  his  earn- 
estness, and  she  saw  the  restlessness  all  gone 
from  the  congregation,  and  the  absorbing  interest 
apparent  upon  those  keen  business  fices,  she  was 
forced  to  acknowledge  that  this  was  the  right 
sermon  for  this  Western  pulpit ;  and  her  critical 
spirit  took  its  final  departure  at  the  close,  when 
she  listened  to  his  straightforward  appeal  for  Mis- 
sionary funds,  and  witnessed  the  prompt  liberal- 
ity of  his  people.  Giving  money  at  the  East  was 
a  more  deliberate  and  stately  affair ;  these  West- 
ern men  gave  their  ten,  twenty,  and  fifty  dollars, 
in  the  same  prompt,  off-hand  manner  in  which 
they  discharged  their  week-day  obligations,  and 


372  Anna  Maylie. 

then   turned   away,    unconscious   that  it   was  an 
action  of  particular  merit. 

After  service,  she  stood  aside  in  the  vestibule, 
and  observed  the  brief  and  hearty  greeting  of 
minister  and  members,  and  the  crowd  of  young 
and  old,  rich  and  poor,  which  gathered  around 
the  minister's  wife.  She  saw  more  than  one 
trembling  old  woman  press  near  to  grasp  the  ex- 
tended hand  and  catch  the  sympathetic  smile, 
until  she  could  not  help  confessing  that  Anna's 
was  a  worthy  and  an  enviable  life ;  and  when 
Eex  joined  them  with  his  brisk  step,  she  smiled 
at  her  own  impressibility  as  she  realized  that  she, 
too,  had  been  braced  by  the  breath  of  this  keen, 
Western  atmosphere. 

Rex  caught  a  glimpse  of  her  impressions  as  he 
walked  home  by  her  side,  and  he  understood  the 
whole  at  once.  "Yes,  I  know,"  he  said.  "I 
am  myself  conscious  of  having  changed.  But  I 
prayed  for  the  change,  Mrs.  Auber  !  T  thank 
God  daily  that  my  church  is    a  working  church, 


"  Let  her  own  Works  Praise  Her."*^     373 

and  may  He  keep  me  worthy  to  stand  as  a  Leader 
in  their  midst." 

Sunday  afternoon  was  intensely  cold.  The 
sun  shone  brightly,  it  is  true,  but  Rex  noticed  the 
few  sharply  -  defined  clouds  lying  back  on  the 
western  edge  of  the  sky,  which  he  knew  beto- 
kened wind  and  still  fiercer  cold.  But  the  hours 
went  by  pleasantly  in  the  cozy  parlor  at  the  par- 
sonage,—  Rachel  listening  unweariedly  to  the  ac- 
counts given  by  her  host  and  hostess  of  their 
church,— accounts  so  glowing  that  the  member- 
ship seemed  to  her  to  be  composed  entirely  of 
great-hearted  men  and  women.  It  was  a  long 
history  of  warm,  full  hands  held  out  on  every 
side  lo  the  poor  and  the  unfortunate  ;  of  great 
projects  for  extending  the  influence,  the  labor, 
and  the  charity  of  the  church  ;  of  constant  con- 
versions, and  of  the  revival  spirit  which  seemed 
the  vital  spark  kindling  the  whole,  until,  for  one 
brief,   enthusiastic  moment,  Rachel  found  herself 


374  Anna  Maylie, 

wishing  that  her  lot  had  been  cast  with  this  West- 
ern church,  and  she  at  work  once  more  with 
Anna  Maylie ;  and  in  this  mood  she  looked  for- 
ward to  the  evening,  and  to  yet  another  phase  of 
their  Western  life  and  their  Western  work. 

Kealizing  with  what  interest  Bachel  was  look- 
ing forward  to  the  evening  in  their  little  church 
at  Dallas,  E-ex  and  Anna  both  grew  anxious  as 
the  time  approached,  and  it  was  with  evident  re- 
gret that  he  finally  said, —  "  I  really  think  we 
ought  not  to  venture,  Anna  ;  for  it  is  by  far  the 
coldest  night  of  the  season.  I  am  obliged  to  go 
of  course,  and  if  the  Professor  chooses,  he  can 
accompany  me ;  but  you  and  Eachel  would  bet- 
ter remain  at  home." 

And  Anna  said, —  "  I  am  sorry  to  say  that  I 
think  Eex  is  right,  Eachel." 

"  Should  you  remain  at  home  were  I  not  here  ?" 
Eachel  questioned. 

"  Probably  not.  But  then  I  am  accustomed 
to   these  long,     country   rides.      I  am   certain, 


^^  Let  her  own  Works  Praise  Her,^'     375 

Eachel,  that  you  have  no  idea  what  the  weather 
really  is.  And,  once  out  in  the  actual  country, 
the  cold  is  ♦far  more  intense  than  in  town.  You 
look  out  of  the  windows  here,  and  see  people  con- 
stantly passing  and  repassing,  a  pleasant  stir 
about  the  houses  across  the  way,  children  tripping 
about,  and  cutters  flashing  by,  and  you  utterly 
fail  to  realize  the  amount  of  endurance  necessary 
for  an  eight  miles'  ride." 

"  Perhaps  not ;  but  since  the  solicitude  appears 
to  be  principally  for  me,  I  will  take  the  responsi- 
bility of  saying  that  you  and  I,  Anna,  will  ac- 
company the  gentlemen ;"  and  she  glanced  up 
with  a  willful  smile  at  her  husband. 

He  inquired  how  long  they  would  be  on  the 
road.  "Perhaps  an  hour,"  Kex  answered.  "I 
drive  Brother  Kingsbury's  horses ;  they  are  a 
splendid  pair  of  trotters,  and  well  trained ;  and 
to  -night,  in  this  keen  air,  they  will  travel  at  a 
swinging  pace." 

"  Well,"  said  the  Professor,  after  a  moment, 


376  Anna  May  lie. 

"if  we  were  to  romain  over  another  of  your  ap- 
pointments, I  should  certainly  refuse  to  allow 
Eachel  to  go  out  to  -  night ;  yet,  if  it  is  possible 
to  make  the  ladies  at  all  comfortable  during  the 
ride,  I  do  n't  know  but  we  might  venture,  since  it 
seems  to  be  so  much  to  Mrs.  Auber." 

"  Yet,  Rachel,  I  am  afraid  to  have  you  go," 
said  Anna,  when  the  first  sharp  breath  struck  her 
face,  almost  blistering  it,  as  they  went  out  to  the 
cutter. 

"Why,  Anna,  I  never  supposed  myself  such  a 
roseleaf  as  you,  and  your  husband,  and  Carl, 
conspu'e  to  represent  me.  Just  look  at  my 
wraps  !  I  believe  each  of  you  have  brought  a  sep- 
arate shawl  and  put  it  around .  me,  since  I  con- 
sidered myself  dressed  for  the  ride  !  How  I  am 
to  move  at  all,  so  muffled  and  wrapped,  is  a 
problem ! " 

It  was  with  difficulty  that  Rex  could  restrain 
the  fiery,  high  -  stepping  horses  until  the  ladies 
gained  their  seats  and    the   robes  were  tucked  in, 


*^  Let  her  own  Works  Praise  Her y     ^11 

and  then,  with  a  toss,  and  a  bound,  and  a  clash 
of  the  bells,  they  were  off.  Securely  wrapped 
as  Mrs.  Palmer  was,  she  was  forced  to  bury  her 
face  in  her  muff,  so  keen  was  the  air ;  but  Kachel 
impatiently  drew  her  own  wrappings  aside.  As 
they  flashed  by  corner  after  corner,  she  could  see 
down  long  streets  of  new  houses  surrounded  by 
young  trees  and  neatly  laid  -  out  grounds ;  the 
houses  struck  her  as  being  painfully  modern, 
built  in  every  known  style  of  architecture,  and  re- 
joicing in  every  shade  and  combination  of  cottage 
paints,  and  each  ornamented  with  its  own  device 
of  cornice  and  bracket.  From  the  next  moment's 
point  of  view,  Main  Street  came  plainly  into  sight, 
with  its  rows  of  brick  blocks,  and  its  handsome 
new  City  Hall.  As  they  turned,  the  spires  of 
seven  or  eight  churches  were  visible,  mingling 
with  the  towering  chimneys  of  immense  factories  ; 
and  she  could  readily  distinguish,  here  and  there, 
the  noble  buildings  of  the  Union  schools.  The 
next  instant,  the  view  was  shut  out,   for  they  had 


378  Anna  May  lie. 

plunged  into  the  heart  of  a  forest,  silent  and  pri- 
meval. "A  forest?"  she  exclaimed.  "Why, 
we  are  still  within  the  city  limits,  Mr.  Palmer  !  " 

Rex  turned  with  a  smile.  "  I  expected  you  to 
be  astonished,  Mrs.  Auber.  Yes,  I  believe  this 
land  is  measured  off  into  city  lots  and  numbered. 
The  country  in  this  direction  has  but  lately  been 
settled ;  on  the  other  sides  of  the  town  there  are 
handsome  farms  and  farm-houses  for  miles.  We 
shall  soon  be  out  of  this,  however,  for,  half  a 
mile  on,  there  are  several  clearings." 

As  they  skimmed  along,  Rachel  noticed  that 
this  stretch  of  woodland  wore  a  smoky,  autumn 
look,  wholly  unlike  the  stern,  mid -winter  aspect 
of  the  beech  and  birch  and  maple  of  her  native 
state.  "We  are  in  the  land  of  oaks,  Rachel; 
do  you  notice  ?  "   her  husband  observed. 

"  The  leaves  remain  on  the  entire  winter," 
said  Rex  ;  "  and  it  beguiles  one  pleasantly  along 
half  way  through  the  winter  with  the  feeling  that, 
as  yet,  it  is  only  autumn,  and  that,  any  morning, 


"  Let  her  own  Works  Praise  HerJ'^     379 

we  may  wake  to  find  the  snow  melted  off,  and  a 
haze  in  the  air,  and  that  one  of  Byrant's  days  has 
come, 

*  a  long  mild  day, 

To  call  the  squirrel  and  the  bee 
From  out  their  winter  home.' " 

As  she  was  yet  noticing  the  light  yellow - 
brown  leaves  which  clung  thickly  to  the  trees, 
and  lent  a  warm,  sheltered  look  to  all  the  land- 
scape, they  dashed  out  into  what  Rex  had  spoken 
of  as  a  "  clearing."  From  a  few  acres  on  either 
side  of  the  road  the  woods  were  cat  back,  and 
there,  among  the  blackened  stumps,  two  log 
houses  had  been  built ;  one  of  them  was  yet  sur- 
rounded by  huge  heaps  of  brush  and  logs  piled 
in  readiness  for  the  next  season's  "  burning  -  off." 
As  she  gazed  around,  she  realized  vividly  that 
she  was  now  in  the  "Western  wilds"  of  the  books 
and  newspapers;  and  with  the  true  tourist's  eye, 
she  noted  all  the  rude  economies  of  these  simple 
habitations, —  the    small   windows    roughly   set 


380  Anna  3Iaylie, 

within  the  unhewn  logs,  the  wooden  latches  of 
the  doors,  and  the  utter  absence  of  chimneys, — 
the  stove  pipes  themselves  ran  up  through  the 
roofs,  slender,  black  and  tall ;  and  she  could  even 
see  the  mud  which  was  plastered  heavily  between 
all  the  logs. 

On  and  on  the  road  swept,  up  long  rises  of 
ground,  through  pieces  of  woodland,  down  steep 
hills,  through  sheltered  ravines,  over  log-  ways, 
and  ever  and  anon  by  wild  spaces  where  great 
trees  lay  felled  in  inextricable  confusion, —  spots 
which  Anna  spoke  of  as  "  slashings." 

"  How  do  they  exist  ?  What  can  these  pool 
people  raise  ?  "  she  involuntarily  cried,  as  they 
passed  field  after  field  dotted  thickly  with  half- 
burned  stumps. 

"  Wheat,  my  dear  JMrs.  Auber,"  Rex  answered. 
"  Some  of  the  finest  white  wheat  in  market  is 
raised  among  these  stumps.  There  is  no  better 
land  in  the  State,  and  some  day,  the  hard  -  work- 
ing,   self-denying   farmers  who   own  these    un- 


^^  Let  her  own  Works  Praise  Her, ^^     381 

promising  *  forties'  and  ^  eighties'  will  be  *  fore- 
handed' men,  as  we  Westerners  say.  In  the 
old  settlements,  the  farmers  now  drive  their  hand- 
some carriages  and  high  -  spirited  horses  eight 
and  ten  miles  into  town  to  attend  church.  Broth- 
er Kingsbmy?  whom  you  saw  to  -  day,  has  a  farm 
of  three  or  four  hundred  acres  some  twelve  miles 
south  of  the  city,  but  he  moves  into  town  every 
winter  that  his  children  may  have  the  advantages 
of  the  schools.  And  this  is  not  unusual  among 
farmers  who,  fifteen  and  twenty  years  ago, 
worked  upon  their  farms  when  they  were  as  wild 
as  these.  Now,  pianos  and  organs,  books  and 
magazines,  sewing  machines  and  clothes  -  wring- 
ers, mowers  and  reapers,  are  common  among 
them.  And  in  a  very  few  years  these  families 
along  here,  who  now  rigidly  deny  themselves 
what  are  esteemed  the  common  necessities  of  life, 
will  likewise  be  able  to  surround  themselves  with 
these  comforts  and  luxuries." 

Just    here,  as   they  turned  a  corner,   she  saw, 


382  Anna  3fayUe. 

half  a  mile  ahead,  a  new,  white  building,  whose 
broad,  yellow  doors,  large  windows,  conspicuous 
platform  and  belfry  proclaimed  it  a  church ;  al- 
though there  was  not  a  house  in  sight,  and  the 
woods  and  oak  shrubs  and  hazel  brush  closed  up 
on  either  side  and  stretched  away  in  limitless 
background.  She  supposed  that  they  had  arrived 
at  Anna's  church,  and  was  smiling  to  think  how 
little  she  had  suffered,  when"  she  was  surprised 
to  find  that  they  were  gliding  by.  Rex  turned 
to  her  again.  "  Does  it  not  surprise  you,  Mrs. 
Auber,  to  see  a  church  rising  in  such  a  wilder- 
ness ?  This  belongs  to  the  Methodist  Episcopal 
denomination,  and  is  crowded  every  Sabbath  by 
families  who  come  from  near  and  far,  on  foot,  and 
with  their  ox-  teams." 

"Indeed  !  I  supposed  it  to  be  Anna's  church." 
Rex  smiled.     "  Anna's  church  is  a  very  differ- 
ent affair ;  we  have  three  miles  yet  to  go,  to  reach 
her  church." 

"Only  think  of  it,  Rachel  I  "  exclaimed  Anna, 


"Xe^  her  own  Works  Praise  HerJ*^      383 

"  there  is  a  thickly  settled  tract  of  country  lying 
east  of  this,  and  until  this  church  was  built,  last 
year,  there  were  at  least  forty  families  who  had 
not  been  inside  a  place  of  worship  for  four  years, 
—the  condition  of  things  has  been  truly  deplora- 
ble !  Men  and  women  who,  at  the  East,  in  their 
youth,  attended  church  more  or  less  frequently, 
come  West,  and  take  up  new  land,  and  settle 
down  and  give  up  church  -  going  entirely." 

"But  why  is  it?  "  asked  Eachel. 

"  I  can  not  tell  you,  in  every  case.  But  in 
many  instances,  the  reason  is  to  be  found  in  the 
economical  way  in  which  they  find  it  necessary  to 
live  for  the  first  few  years.  The  Sunday  raiment 
brought  from  the  Eastern  home  gradually  be- 
comes too  worn  for  longer  wear,  and  in  their 
hard  life  they  do  not  replace  it.  Two  calico 
dresses,  a  shaker,  a  woolen  hood  and  a  pair  of 
stout,  serviceable  shoes,  is  the  yearly  allowance, 
cheerfully  accepted  by  many  a  hard  -  working 
woman,  in  this  country,  for  years.     I  have  ascer- 


384  Anna  Maylie, 

tained  this.  But  I  can  assure  you  that  they  are 
as  painfully  aware  as  any  one  that  they  have  no 
clothing  in  which  it  would  be  respectable  to  ap- 
pear at  church  in  town,  which  they  seldom  have 
any  means  of  reaching,  save  by  ox  teams.  You 
see  I  am  giving  you  the  other  side  of  Ilex's 
cheerful  picture.  Well,  our  backwoodsman  is 
far  too  sturdy,  and  far  too  proud,  to  encounter 
the  looks  and  remarks  around  our  crowded  church 
doors  if  he  came  urging  his  oxen  along  the 
streets,  and  then  assisted  from  the  rude  lumber 
wagon  his  wife  and  children  in  their  calico  dresses 
and  shakers  and  coarse  shoes.  My  heart  aches 
for  this  class  of  people  !  " 

"  Could  anything  be  done  ? "  asked  Rachel, 
thoughtfully. 

"Nothing,  save  to  carry  the  bread  of  life  to 
them.  And  only  in  rare  instances  can  a  mission 
church  be  built  as  the  wealthy  Methodists  of  town 
have  built  this.  They  received  some  aid,  how- 
ever, from  the  people  themselves,    as   the  lumber 


^^  Let  her  own  Works  Praise  Her, ^^    385 

and  the  team  -  work  were  contributed  by  the 
farmers  here.  Now,  as  Eex  says,  the  house  is 
crowded.  It  is  their  own  place  of  worship,  and 
none  are  ashamed  of  their  humble  attire,  since  the 
occupants  of  adjoining  pews  are  no  better 
Iressed." 

"Where  does  your  own  mission  parish  be- 
gin?" 

''Oh,  that  lies  farther  north.  The  country  is 
not  quite  so  new  in  some  instances;  still,  none 
of  the  settlers  have  yet  emerged  from  their  '  hard 
times.'  Our  work  lies  wholly  among  men  and 
women  who  had  not  heard  a  sermon  preached,  or 
a  prayer  offered,  for  years, —  only  think  of  it ! 
Many  families  are  Irish  and  German,  and  had 
not  a  copy  of  the  Bible  when  we  began  our  work. 
We  have  supplied  them,  of  course.  There  are  a 
dozen  children  in  our  congregation  who  never  be- 
fore heard  the  name  of  God  pronounced,  except 
in  the  oaths  of  daily  conversation.  And,  Eachel, 
upon  one  thing  I  am  resolved  !     As  soon  as  sum- 


386  Anna  Maylie. 

mer  comes,  a  Sunday  school  must  be  estab- 
lished !  " 

"But  you  can  not  do  that, — so  far  away  as 
you  live  ?  " 

"  No.  Yet  I  have  a  plan.  I  shall  send  home 
to  Morristown  Common  for  one  of  my  Christian 
girls,  who  must  needs  labor  for  a  living, —  one 
wiio  v/ould  love  to  work  for  Jesus,  and  who  would 
tlierefore  delight  in  missionary  work.  Then  I 
shall  procure  for  her  the  district  school  among  my 
people.  We  shall  then  come  over  and  organize  a 
Sabbath  school,  and  establish  her  as  its  superin- 
tendent.    Her  salary  as  missionary  I  myself  shall 

Her  husband  smiled  as  he  exchanged  glances 
with  Itiichel.  "  Anna's  little,  private,  strawberry 
fortune  is  an  inexhaustible  fund  for  her  home 
missionary  work.  She  never  yet  has  asked  aid 
from  me,  or  from  our  church." 

Anna  went  on :  "  Since  you  have  told  me  so 
much  about    Agnes    Green,    I   have  thought   of 


"  Let  her  own  Woi^ks  Praise  Her,''       387 

Bending  for  her.  I  shall  send  now  and  then  for 
one  of  mj  Morristown  girls  when  1  need  a  mis- 
sionary in  these  new  spots.  Would  to  heaven  I 
could  find  a  bright,  resolute,  Christian  girl,  with 
the  true  missionary  spirit  for  every  backwoods 
district  school  in  the  West,  where  there  is  not 
already  a  Sunday  school  established  !  " 

Still  on  they  dashed,  by  one  wild  farm  after 
another,  until  the  landscape  began  to  lose  its 
novelty  and  excitement.  It  was  fast  growing 
dark,  and  Eachel  leaned  back  in  her  seat,  her 
face  really  stinging  with  the  cold,  and  her  feet 
aching  painfully.  She  involuntarily  moved 
nearer  Anna,  who  said, — "  You  are  suffering, 
Eachel ;  but  we  are  almost  there  now." 

Each  one  drew  the  wraps  closer  as  the  dark- 
ness settled  down,  and  the  wild  blasts  swept  over 
them.  Rachel,  too,  was  glad  now  to  bury  her 
face  in  her  furs  and  take  no  note  of  their  progress, 
— only  to  endure. 

Finally  they  stopped.     "  Here  at   last  I  "   said 


388  Anna  Maylie. 

Rex,  cheerily,  as  he  came  to  their  side.  "  I  have 
stopped  at  Mrs.  Catlin's,  Anna,  for  1  thought 
you  would  best  go  in  there  and  warm,  quietly. 
It  will  be  so  close,  and  crowded,  and  heated,  up 
there,  I  feared  Mrs.  Auber  might  faint,  coming 
directly  in  from  the  cold." 

With  her  stiff,  benumbed  fingers  E-achel  drew 
back  her  wraps,  and  looked  out.  She  could  see 
that  they  had  paused  in  front  of  a  small  log  house 
where  a  light  twinkled  dimly.  She  essayed  to 
rise,  but  would  have  fallen  had  it  not  been  for  her 
husband's  quick  arm.  She  saw  Rex  steadying 
Anna  as  he  placed  her  upon  the  ground,  and 
heard  her  say, — "I  shall  be  able  to  walk  in  a  mo- 
ment; but  how  sorry  I  am  we  came." 

Rachel  found  she  required  the  same  support. 
Warmly  wrapped  and  protected  as  they  were, 
the  fierce  cold  had  penetrated  all ;  and  her  feet 
felt  like  balls  when  she  tried  to  step  ;  and  she 
was  glad  of  Rex's  assistance  as  he  attended  them 
to  the   door.     "  1  think   I  will  put  the   horses  in 


"  Let  her  own  Works  Praise  Uery      389 

the  barn  to  -  night ;  then  I  must  go  in  immedi- 
ately, for  I  fear  it  is  late.  Get  thoroughly  warm 
before  you  come  up." 

A  little  girl,  in  a  scant,  home-made  flannel 
dress,  with  closely -cut  hair,  came  to  the  door. 
"Ma  is  tomeetin',"  she  said,  timidly. 

But  they  entered,  and  Anna  made  Rachel  as 
comfortable  as  she  could,  giving  her  a  seat  at  a 
distance  from  the  fire  that  she  might  become  grad- 
ually accustomed  to  the  warmth  ;  but  even  with 
this  precaution,  Eachel  was  faint  and  in  suffering 
for  a  long  time.  "  You  know  I  was  afraid  for 
you,"  Anna  said.  "I  am  quite  used  to  something 
like  this  myself  when  we  come  over  here  ;  yet  I 
think  I  never  knew  it  quite  so  cold." 

Rachel  bore  it  bravely,  however,  and  at  last 
announced  herself  ready  to  go.  Anna  led  the 
way,  and  she  followed,  up  a  steep  hill  and  along 
a  well  -  trodden  path.  The  snow  eeemcd 
trampled  and  cut  up  in  every  direction  with 
eleigh  tracks,  but  still  Rachel  could  see  no  church. 


390  Anna  Maylie, 

"  Is  it  far  ?  "     she  inquired. 

"No,  we  are  here." 

Rachel  could  indeed  hear  the  sound  of  singing, 
and  removing  her  veil,  she  saw — only  another  log 
building  —  no  church.  "I  do  not  see,"  she 
said. 

"Here,  Eachel, —  this  little  log  school  -  house, 
— this  is  ray  church  !  " 

Shaking  the  snow  from  their  dresses,  Anna 
opened  the  door,  —  not  into  a  vestibule,  or  an 
entry,  as  Rachel  had  expected,  but  right  upon  the 
congregation  itself.  She  involuntarily  paused  as 
she  closed  the  door.  The  low,  rough  building 
was  but  dimly  lighted,  and  it  merely  seemed  a 
sea  of  men's  heads  and  shoulders.  It  took  a  sec- 
ond glance  to  discern  the  brighter  coloring  of 
woman's  presence.  Desks  and  seats  ran  along 
the  sides,  and  stretched  almost  up  to  the  great, 
rusty  stove,  and  every  space  was  packed, — and 
with  what  an  assemblage  !  Even  directly  in  front 
of  themselves,   and  barring  their  passage,   a  long 


^^  Let  her  own  Worlcs  Praise  Her,''^     391 

seat  ran  across,  and  a  row  of  men  and  boys  sat 
upon  it,  with  every  head  turned  toward  them. 
At  the  farther  end  of  the  room,  standing  upon  a 
platform  behind  a  rough  table,  she  could  discern 
Rex.  Near  him,  at  the  end  of  a  low  seat,  sat  her 
husband,  only  distinguishable  in  the  obscurity  by 
his  black  coat   and    white  collar  and  shirt  bosom. 

But  Anna  was  moving,  and  she  followed.  A 
step,  and  men  and  boys  rose,  Anna  stepped  upon 
the  seat,  and  then  down  again  on  the  other  side. 
She  followed,  and  in  a  moment  they  were  seated. 
They  were  now  singing  familiar  Ortonville. 
Hearty  and  untutored  were  the  voices, —  some 
clear,  and  some  shrill,  but  each  in  earnest  and 
entirely  unrepressed, —  Anna  and  her  husband 
leading  them  serenely. 

She  looked  around  upon  the  densely  -  packed 
men  and  boys,  some  of  them  with  their  long  locks 
brushed  up  high  in  the  style  of  years  ago,  but 
many  more  with  their  shaggy  hair  and  beard 
wholly  uncared  for.     The  carelessly  -  worn  blouse 


892  Anna  Maylie. 

and  coat  displayed  shirts  of  gray  and  brown 
woolen.  Well-worn  coats,  faded  to  every  hue, 
often  ragged,  met  the  eye,  diversified,  here  and 
there,  by  an  old  -  fashioned  black  broadcloth,  and, 
now  and  then,  a  blouse,  or  "  wawmus,"  as  West- 
erners say.  Heavy  trousers  worn  inside  cowhide 
boots  completed  the  costumes  of  these  sturdy  men 
and  strong  -  limbed  youths ;  but  the  glow  of 
health,  and  contentment,  and  good  will,  shone  on 
every  face. 

She  turned  to  her  own  side  of  the  house. 
She  was  struck  with  the  diminutiveness  of  both 
heiself  and  Anna,  as  she  looked  at  the  stalwart 
women  among  whom  they  sat.  Their  very  size 
gave  her  an  odd  feeling  of  timidity  as  she  raised 
her  eyes  to  their  faces,  reddened  with  health  and 
exposure,  resolute  in  expression,  yet  beaming  with 
kindness.  She  glanced  back  of  her,  where  the 
younger  women  and  girls  were  seated.  Several 
of  them  had  thrown  aside  their  shawls,  and  taken 
oflf  their  hoods. .    Among  them,  she   saw   many  a 


"  Let  her  own  Works  Praise  Her  J'       393 

bright,  rosy  face,  and  many  a  countenance  lighted 
with  natural  intelligence.  Calico  dresses  and 
heavy  woolen  shawls  predominated,  with  here 
and  there  a  hat  and  a  sacque  which  evidently  had 
been  purchased  in  town. 

She  bestowed  the  third  glance  of  scrutiny  upon 
Anna's  church  itself.  The  walls  were  unhevm 
logs,  the  windows  few  and  small,  the  seats  and 
counters  rough  and  unpainted,  and  chipped  and 
cut  by  mischievous  knives.  Maps  and  black- 
boards, and  staring  portraits  on  rollers  of  Granf 
and  Lincoln,  hung  against  the  logs.  Standinc 
here  and  there  upon  the  counters  were  talloT\ 
candles,  in  candlesticks  brought  from  home  by 
the  various  families ;  a  few  more  stood  around  in 
wooden  sconces, — merely  a  square  block  with  a 
hole  bored  of  the  size  requisite  to  admit  the  candle  ; 
still  another  set  were  stuck  in  sections  of  raw  po- 
tatoes, and  a  few  more,  simply  wrapped  in  paper, 
were  held  in  hand  among  the  men.  But  the  two 
on  the  desk  were  placed  in  a  pair  of  tall  glass 


394  Anna  Maylie, 

candlesticks,  —  a  souvenir  of  the  girlhood  of  some 
woman  present,  llachel  presumed,  and  brought 
there  by  their  owner  in  an  attempt  to  make  the 
humble,  little  backwoods  pulpit  look  as  respecta- 
ble as  possible.  Eachel  felt  no  inclination  what- 
ever to  smile;  instead,  she  was  conscious  of  be- 
ing moved  by  the  sight  of  this  rude  population 
thronging  in  so  eagerly  where  they  might  be  fed 
with  the  bread  of  life. 

This  evening,  she  saw  Eex  in  a  new  light, 
and  felt  again  his  especial  fitness  for  Western  and 
pioneer  work.  He  did  not  content  himself  with 
a  simple  "  talk"  to  this  congregation.  He  was 
aware  of  the  weight  and  dignity  of  an  actual  ser- 
mon, and  so,  although  he  never  carried  a  written 
sermon  there,  he  invariably  "  took  a  text." 

To  Rachel  this  impromptu  sermon  was  more 
remarkable  for  its  directness  than  the  one  of  the 
morning.  Couched  in  language  which  was  at 
once  familiar  and  dignified,  he  brought  the  les- 
sons of  his  text, —  Christian  honor,  Christian  hon- 


^^ Let  her  own  Works  Praise  Her»^     395 

estj,  Christian  forbearance  and  the  true  Christian 
mode  of  forgiving  seventy  times  seven, — down  to 
the  comprehension  of  the  most  untutored  mind. 
She  looked  around  upon  his  hearers.  The  men 
sat  leaning  their  elbows  upon  their  knees,  their 
shaggy  heads  resting  upon  their  hands,  their  earn- 
est faces  upturned  to  his,  drinking  in  every  word 
So  clearly  adapted  was  it  to  their  humble  needs, 
they  could  not  fail  to  go  home  thoroughly  aware 
of  their  duty  in  regard  to  those  neighborhood  dif- 
ficulties of  line  fences,  broken  log -chains,  and 
unruly  oxen.  If  Henry  Markham,  who  had  had 
so  much  bad  luck  and  sickness  in  his  family  dur- 
ing the  past  year,  found  his  rich  neighbor,  Mr. 
Camp,  who  held  a  mortgage  on  his  "forty,"  un- 
expectedly lenient  in  the  matter  of  his  failure  to 
have  the  interest  money  ready,  he  had  these 
plain,  forcible  sermons  to  thank.  Yo^'cj  easy,  too, 
it  should  be  hereafter  for  the  women  of  this 
neighborhood  to  feel  when  news  was  degenerating 
into  scandal,  and  proper  pride   into  malice   and 


396  Anna  May  He, 

envy.  Nowhere  better  than  here,  Rachel  felt, 
could  Rexford  Palmer's  natural  insight  :n  human 
nature,  and  his  frank,  sympathetic  temperament, 
have  united  so  effectually  with  his  well  -  trained 
intellect  to  do  crood  service  for  the  Master. 

When  the  benediction  was  pronounced,  the 
assembly  left  their  seats,  but  none  departed. 
Rex  came  down  into  their  midst  and  made  his 
way  among  them,  shaking  hands  on  this  side  and 
on  that ;  and  a  strange  confusion  reached  Rachel's 
ear,  of  Irish  -  English,  German  -  English,  and 
Sw^ede  -  English,  mingling  with  the  broad,  hearty 
greetings  of  the  true  American  Westerner. 

Anna  was  similarly  surrounded.  Laying  her 
hand  upon  Rachel's  arm  to  call  her  attention,  she 
formally  introduced  her,  first  to  this  stalwart 
dame,  then  to  the  hard  -  faced  Irish  woman  by 
her  side,  then  to  this  rosy,  young  woman,  after- 
wards to  a  couple  of  young  matrons,  each  bearing 
aloft  a  sturdy  baby  in  hood  and  cloak,  and  finally 
to  each  and  every  woman  present,   for  she  saw 


"  Let  her  own  Worlcs  Praise  HerJ*^     397 

they  had  all  crowded  close,  awaiting  their  turn. 
Rachel  failed  not  to  take  the  hand  of  each  with 
rfue  cordiality,  and  she  listened  with  sincere  in- 
ierest  to  all  they  said  to  their  pastor's  wife. 

"  Missus,  you  better  come  'ome  with  us," 
urged  the  robust  English  woman  by  whose  side 
she  had  sat.  "  "We  '11  be  powerful  glad  to  'ear  a 
chapter,  and  we  '11  care  for  the  'orses  and  your- 
selves hover  night,  and  mebbe  in  the  morning  it 
will  be  more  comfortable  riding." 

But  before  the  invitation  could  be  accepted  or 
declined,  Mrs.  Malone  elbowed  her  way  forward. 
"  Shure,  Mrs.  Par-r-mer-r,  ye  '11  fraze,  an'  the 
(eddy  wid  yez,  if  yez  go  home  the  night !  It's 
himsilf  that  '11  make  yez  wilcome  to  the  bit,  and 
the  sup,  and  the  clane,  white  bed  if  ye  '11  come 
home  with  U3 ;  and  its  meself  and  him  that  '11 
glape  inty  the  clane,  swate  straw  in  the  loft,  and 
give  this  young  leddy  and  her  husband  the  bed 
from  under  us  if  y^  HI  50  ;  —  w«^'s  not  forgot  the 
Houly  Book  yci  re  A  ..truces  gcive  us  1  *' 


398  Anna  May  lie. 

Anna  thanked  them  all  kindly,  but,  since 
Rachel  thought  she  could  endure  the  ride,  she  felt 
the  J  must  return.  "  Och  thin  !  if  yez  must,  yez 
must !  But  here's  me  children  growin'  up  like 
weeds,  and  niver  a  prayer-r  or  a  wir-r-d  of  the 
blissed  Son  of  God  do  they  hear-r-  !  " 

Anna  took  the  brawny  hand  which  was  wiping 
away  the  tears.  "  Next  summer  I  will  certainly 
send  a  teacher  to  the  children.  Bring  them  to 
church  w^henever  you  can,  and  try  to  teach  them 
the  difference  between  right  and  wrong  at  home. 
Pray  earnestly  to  God  to  give  you  light  for  your- 
selves and  them.  God  answers  everybody  that  is 
in  earnest,  Mrs.  Malone." 

"  Could  n't  you  possibly  stay  over  with  us, 
Mrs.  Palmer?"  inquired  a  pretty,  modest  -  look- 
ing woman,  following  them  a  step  as  they  turned 
to  go  toward  the  gentlemen,  who  were  buttoning 
their  overcoats  preparatory  to  going  out  for  the 
horses.  "  Could  n't  you,  Mrs.  Palmer,  and  go 
around  among  us  to  -  morrow  ?     There  are  those 


"  Let  her  own  Worlcs  Praise  Her"     399 

who  are  troubled  about  their  souls,"  she  added  in 
a  choked  voice. 

Anna  stopped  by  her  side.  "This  time  we 
can  not,  Mrs.  Scranton  !  The  reason  we  can 
not,  is  because  Mr.  Palmer  said  nothing  to 
Brother  Kingsbury  about  keeping  the  horses,  — 
but  the  next  time  we  come  we  will  come  to  stay 
over  night,  and  perhaps  a  day  or  two  ; — tell 
them  so  if  you  please  ;  and  tell  them,  Mrs.  Scran- 
ton, tell  them  there  will  be  a  prayer  meeting  here 
at  the  school  -  house  instead  of  preaching,  two 
weeks  from  to  -  nioht." 

"  O  Anna  Maylie !  —  the  work  that  lies 
around  you  !  —  the  wide  -  stretching  Macedonia 
at  your  door  !  —  here  is  a  field  lor  Fanny  How- 
land.  I  am  glad  she  is  coming  to  you,  of  all  the 
world  I  "  exclaimed  Eachel,  when  she  was  seated 
once  more  by  Anna's  side. 

"  Do  you  wonder  now,"  said  Anna,  "  when  I 
tell  you  that  both  night  and  day  a  vision  appears 
to  me  as  of  old  it  appeared  to  Paul?     Like  the 


400  Anna  Ma'glie, 

Macedonij\n  man  of  the  apostle's  vision,  these 
Western  men  and  women  haunt  me  with  their 
prayer,  saying,  —  ^  Come  over^  come  over,  come 
over  into  Macodcnia  and  help  us  !' " 


The  gliding  days  brought  among  them  the  last 
day  of  Rachel's  visit.  Fanny  had  been  tele- 
graphed, but  had  not  yet  arrived,  much  to 
Rachel's  regret,  who  wished  to  see  her  once 
more,  and  so  lingered  until  the  last  possible  mo- 
ment ;  but  Prof.  Auber's  engagements  required 
his  presence  at  an  appointed  time,  and  rendered 
delay  beyond  a  certain  limit  impossible.  There- 
fore, one  Wednesday  afternoon  found  them,  ac- 
companied by  their  host  and  hostess,  waiting  at 
the  depot  for  the  four  o'clock  express,  still  hop- 
ing that  Fanny  might  arrive  on  the  train  due 
from  the  East.  And  as  the  train  thundered  in, 
Rex  went  out  to  see  if  peradventure  she  might  be 
on  board.  It  was  to  their  great  surprise  how- 
ever, since  the  chance  was  so  small,   that  they 


^^  Let  her  own  Works  Praise  Her,''*    401 

saw  him  return  with  her  on  his  arm,  and  her 
little  sister  by  her  side.  At  the  first  glance, 
Anna  could  scarcely  believe  that  this  lady  in 
heavy  mourning,  with  face  so  sad  and  quiet, 
could  be  Fanny  Howland ;  for,  up  to  this  mo- 
ment, in  spite  of  all  Rachel  had  said,  she  had 
pictured  her  as  she  saw  her  last,  at  a  church  festi- 
val, fair  and  smiling,  in  a  dress  of  beautiful 
blue,  with  pansies  clustering  in  her  golden  hair. 
But  her  heart  was  overflowing  with  welcome  for 
the  dependent  girl ;  and  impulsively  she  went 
forward  and  took  her  within  her  arms  as  an  elder 
sister  might,  and  there,  upon  the  shoulder  of  the 
washer  -  woman's  daughter  whom  she  had  once 
despised  and  neglected,  Fanny  wept  her  first 
tears  since  the  crushing  blow. 

Farewell  was  so  soon  to  follow  upon  the  words 
of  greeting,  that  question  and  answer  crowded 
fast  as  those  three  girls  of  Miss  Clemmer's  stood 
with  clasped  hands.  Among  the  inquiries  for  the 
people    of  Morristown,    Anna    asked, —  "Clara, 


402  Anna  May  lie, 

and  Satie,  —  do  you  know  any  thing  of  them?" 
"  Indeed  I  do,  Mrs.  Palmer.  They  are  both 
already  in  the  Seminary  preparing  for  the  work 
to  which  they  have  formally  consecrated  their 
lives.  Mrs.  and  Mr.  Marsh,  and  Clara's  friends 
have,  at  last,  given  them  up  to  the  labor  they 
have  chosen ;  and  as  soon  as  they  are  fitted,  they 
expect  to  sail  for  Syria,  or  Turkey,  as  teachers  in 
the  mission  -  school  there.  Is  not  theirs  a  g4ori- 
ous  destiny?  Were  it  not  for  little  Lilian,  I 
should  also  go." 

Anna  turned  away   with  tearful  eyes  > —  "  All 
Miss  Clemmer's  girls,  at  last  1 " 


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THOUGHTS    THAT    BREATHE. 
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CHEERFUL   WORDS. 
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TRUE   MANLINESS. 
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These  books,  from  the  pen  of  Mrs.  S.  R.  Graham  Clark,  are  possessed 
of  such  conspicuous  merits,  as  to  secure  for  them  tlie  u.iquahfied  com- 
mendation of  eminent  religious  journals  such  as  the  Centra!  Christian 
Advocate,  The  yoitriial  and  Messe7iger ,  The  N'eiv  Orleans  Christian 
Advocate,  The  Lidherau  Obzerz<er,  Christian  at  Work.  The  Dover 
Mor7iing  Star,  The  Gospel  Banner,  Philadelphia  Methodist,  Herald 
and  Presbyter. 

YENSIE  WALTON.  OUR  STREET. 

YENSIE  WALTON'S  WOMAMHOOD. 
THE  TRIPLE  E.  ACHOR. 

N     i2mo,  cloth,  illustrated,  uniform  binding,  $1.50  each. 
YENSIE  WALTON. 

"  Yensie  Walton,"  by  Mrs.  S.  R.  Graham  Clark.  Boston  :  D.  Loth- 
rop  &  Co.  Full  of  striking  incident  and  scenes  of  great  pathos,  with 
occasional  gleams  of  humor  and  fun  by  way  of  relief  to  the  more  tragic 
parts  of  the  narrative.  The  characters  are  strongly  drawn,  and,  in  gen- 
eral, are  thoroughly  human,  not  gifted  with  impossible  perfections,  but 
having  those  infirmities  of  the  flesh  which  make  us  all  akin.  It  will  take 
rank  among  the  best  and  most  popular  Sunday-school  books. —  Episcopal 
Register. 

A  pure  sweet  story  of  girl  life,  quiet,  and  yet  of  sufficient  interest  to  hold 
the  attention  of  the  most  careless  reader. — Zion''s  Advocate. 
YENSIE  WALTON'S  WOMANHOOD. 

The  many  readers  who  have  made  the  acquaintance  of  "  Yensie  Wal- 
ton "  in  one  of  the  best  Sunday-school  books  ever  published,  will  be  de- 
lighted to  renew  that  acquaintance,  and  to  keep  their  former  companion 
still  further  company  through  life.  There  is  a  strong  religious  tone  to  the 
whole  story,  and  its  teachings  of  morality  and  religion  are  pure  and 
healthful  and  full  of  sweetness  and  beauty.  The  story  is  a  worthy  suc- 
cessor to  Mrs.  Clark's  previous  work. — Boston  Post. 

The  heroine  is  an  excellent  character  for  imitation,  and  the  entire  atmos- 
phere of  the  book  is  healthfal  and  purifying. —/'///.r^J/^r^  Christian  Advo- 
cate. 
OUR  STREET, 

By  the  same  author,  is  a  capital  story  of  every  day  life  which  deals  with 
genuine  character  in  a  most  mteresting  manner. 

THE  TRIPLE  E, 

Just  published,  is  a  book  whose  provoking  title  will  be  at  once  acknowl- 
edged by  the  reader  as  an  appropriate  one.     It  fully  sustains  the  author's 
reputation. 
ACHOR,  a  new  book  in  press. 

D.  LOTHROP  &  CO.,  Publishers,  Boston. 


MARIE  OLIVER'S  STORIES. 

3  vols,  i2mo  cloth,  illustrated,  $1.50  each;  the  set  $4.50. 

RUBY  HAMILTON.  OLD  AND  NEW  FRIENDS. 

SSDA'S  DISCIPLINE. 
Extracts  fravrt  coinimnts  of  ■well-k}io7un  j ourTials. 
BUSY  HAMILTON. 

This  is  a  very  excellent  Sunday-school  book,  which  can  be 
honestly  commended  for  youthful  readers. —  TheWatchman. 

It  is  a  well-told  story,  conveys  a  pure,  healthful  lesson,  and 
is  one  of  the  best  books  of  its  class. — PJdladelphia  E7tqiiirer. 

This  is  one  of  the  best  Sunday-school  books  in  Lothrop's 
long  and  admirable  list.  The  story  is  a  sweet  one,  and 
charmingly  told. — Ckirrck  Mirror. 

The  spirit  throughout  is  healthy  and  devout.  .  .  .  Al- 
together it  is  a  charming  and  instructive  book. — The  Church' 
man. 

OLD  AND  NEW  FRIENDS. 

A  very  excellent  specimen  of  the  class  of  fiction  designed 
for  young  folk  who  have  ceased  to  be  children  witliout 
having  become  mature  men  and  women. — N.  Y.  Eveni7ig 
Post. 

Many  readers  will  remember  "  Ruby  Hamilton,"  a  volume 
which  created  quite  a  sensation  at  the  time  of  its  publication. 
.  This  volume,  a  continuation  of  this  story,  ought  to 
become  as  popular  as  its  predecessor. — Christian  Mirror. 

Contains  some  charming  pictures  of  home-life.  .  .  . 
Cannot  but  help  and  strengthen  the  boy  whose  impulses 
are  for  good. — Herald  and  Presbyter. 

Like  all  that  comes  from  this  author's  pen,  this  volume 
has  merits  of  both  substance  and  style. —  Western  Christian 
Advocate. 

Adds  another  to  the  list  of  really  goc'  story  books.— 
Cincinnati  Journal  and  Messenger. 

SSBA'S  DISCIPLINE. 

A  good  book  to  teach  the  uses  of  trouble  in  building  up  char« 
acter. —  Wester jt  Recorder. 

Has  a  varied  and  absorbing  interest  from  its  beginning  to  its 
close.  .  .  .  Sometimes  sad  and  wonderfully  pathetic;  some* 
times  bright  and  cheerful,  it  is  impressive  always.  In  every 
resjject  it  is  the  best  religious  story  we  have  seen  for  many  a 
day,  and  one  .  .  .  that  can  scarcely  fail  to  benefit  any 
reader  whom  God  leads  along  rough  paths. —  The  Interior. 

Should  be  in  every  Sunday-school  library. —  The  Sta7idarcL 

D.  LOTHROP  &  CO.,  Publistiers,  Boston. 


SELF-GIVIl^G. 

"  Have  read  with  interest,  and  with  admiration  ot  the  vivid- 
ness and  accuracy  which  characterize  the  descriptions  given." 

—  Rt.  Rev.  Thomas  M.  Clark,  D.  D.,  Bishop  of  Rhode  Island. 
"  Very  interesting.     A  true  insight ;  literally  truth."  —  Chris- 
tian Observer,  Louisville,  Ky. 

**  It  is  best  that  the  truth  should  be  told  about  this  matter."  — 
The  Biidget,  Boston. 

"  Important  information.  Highly  interesting  as  a  story."  — 
Lutheran  Observer,  Philadelphia. 

"  Very  instructive.  His  revealments  are  not  at  all  damaging 
to  any  who  regard  them  properly.  "Wish  all  would  read  it."  — 
jfoicrnal  and  Alessenger,  Cincinnati. 

"Impartial,  thorough  and  attractive." —  yoitr7tal,  Providence. 

"  Will  receive  a  cordial  welcome  by  a  host  of  his  admirers." 

—  The  Methodist,  Philadelphia. 

"  As  throwing  light  upon  the  practical  features  of  the  mission- 
ary operations  of  to-day,  the  work  has  no  equal  in  missionary 
literature." — Advocate  of  Missions,  Nashville,  Tenn. 

"Illustrates  powerfully'  Self-Giving.'  Kead  intelligently,  the 
influence  of  the  book  will  be  thoroughly  good."  —  President 
Hovey,  Newton  Theo.  Sem. 

"A  valuable  work,  rich  in  hints  and  suggestions.  —  Sec'y  N. 
G.  Clark,  D.  D.,  American  Board. 

"How  much  we  have  enjoyed  !  All  tlie  churches  are  greatly 
indebted." — Rev.  B.  H.  Badley,  Methodist  Missionary,  Luck- 
now,  India. 

"Deserving  and  certain  of  larger  circulation  than  even  same 
author's  Tour  of  Missions."  —  Rev.  J.  Nevius.  D.  D.,  Presby- 
terian Missionary,  China. 


AFTER  THOUGHTS  OF  FOREIGN  TRAVEL. 

By  Rev.  S.  H.  McCollestee,  D.  D. 

The  author  has  a  happy  faculty  for  vivid  descriptions  of 
places  and  events,  but  the  greater  value  of  the  work  to  the 
student  is  in  the  care  and  accuracy  with  which  tlie  history  of 
the  many  points  of  interest  visited  has  been  given.  Tlie  read- 
er not  only  sees  the  towns,  churclies  and  castles  as  the  author 
saw  them,  but  by  his  aid  sees  them  in  the  light  of  other  days  in 
ccmnection  with  the  great  events  wliich  liave  forever  made  them 
memorable.  —  Boston  Journal. 

A  book  of  rare  excellence.  The  author  gathered  the  choicest 
material  as  he  passed  along,  omitting  the  commonplace  facts 
and  incidents  wliich  usually  find  their  way  into  books  of  this 
class;  he  has  arranged  this  material  very  happily,  to  gain  and 
hold  the  attention  of  his  readers,  and  has  expressed  his  after- 
thoughts in  a  clear  and  attractive  style.  Tlie  book  is  at  once, 
both  fascinating  and  instructive  in  an  unusual  degree.  —  Hiram 
Orcutt. 

One  of  the  liveliest  books  of  travel  we  have  taken  up  for  a 
long  time.  To  read  it  attentively,  is  to  travel  side  by  side  with 
the  writer,  seeing  with  our  own,  as  well  as  with  his  eyes.  We 
heartily  thank  the  author  for  the  privilege  of  visiting,  with  him, 
London,  Edinburgh,  Paris,  Rome,  Athens,  Alexandria,  Jerusa- 
lem, and  so  many  other  places  where  our  feet  have  not 
trodden,  but  which  we  have  really  seen. — Bev.  J.  G.  Adams, 
D.D. 

The  book  is  the  work  of  a  man  who  sees  and  thinks,  and 
who,  when  he   travels,  brings  back  something  to   tell  worth 

listening  to One  ^f  the  few  in  the  great  flood  of 

books  of  travel  that  are  worth  reading.  —  Vt.  Reformer. 

12mo,  clo-.h.    Price,  $1.50. 

D.  LOTHROP  &  CO.,  PUBLISHERS, 

32  Fbanklim  Stbeet,  Bostoit. 


NEW    BOOKS 


Around  the  World  Tour  of  Christian  Missions.  A  Universal  Survey. 
By  William  F.  Bainbridge.  With  Maps  of  Prevailing  Religions  and  all  Lead- 
ing Missions  Stations.  Boston:  D.  Lothrop  &  Co  Price  ^2.oa 
The  readers  of  the  Journal  are  enjoyably  familiar  with  "Round  the  World 
Letters,"  from  the  pen  of  Mrs.  Bainbricge,  which  have  recently  been  published 
in  book  form.  The  same  publishers  now  issue  a  volume  written  by  the  Rev.  Mr. 
Bainbridge,  but  occupying  a  different  field  of  research,  and  embodying  more 
directly  the  principal  purpose  of  the  tour.  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Bainbridge  with  their 
Eon  and  a  friend  made  up  the  little  party  that  started  for  a  two  years'  journey 
.'.round  the  globe.  Their  object  incidentally  was  to  improve  the  opportunities  for 
eight-seeing  afforded  by  foreign  travel,  but  primarily  to  examine  the  principal 
rj.ission-fields  throughout  the  world.  They  travelled  at  their  own  expense,  and 
v/ere  therefore  unfettered  by  obligation  to  any  special  missionary  organization, 
i  ne  only  help  received  was  in  the  form  of  introductory  letters  from  the  secretaries 
Ci  the  leading  Foreign  Missionary  Societies  of  America.  They  visited  over  a 
ti:ousand  missionaries,  made  a  close  personal  examination  of  the  details  of  their 
XTork,  the  amount  of  good  they  were  accomplishing,  and  the  scope  and  bearing  of 
present  effort  in  relation  to  the  prospect  of  the  evangelization  of  the  heathen. 
They  returned  freighted  with  the  rich  material  they  had  so  carefully  garnered, 
Ciid  full  of  hope  that  the  day  will  sometime  dawn  when  the  Christian  religion 
cnall  prevail  throughout  the  land. 

On  the  return  of  the  tourists  to  America,  Mr.  Bainbridge  was  urged  by  the  ex- 
ecutive officers  of  the  missionary  societies  of  the  different  branches  of  the 
Church  to  publish  a  record  of  his  personal  impre.ssions  concerning  the  utility  and 
r-2thods  of  Christian  Missions.  He  accepted  the  commission,  and  the  volume 
.".ow  issued  under  the  title  of  "  Around  the  World  Tour  of  Christian  Missions," 
-;:nbodies  the  result  of  his  labors.  The  work  could  not  have  been  placed  in 
cetter  hands.  —  Providence  Journal. 

i^ouND  THE  World  Letters,     By  Lucy  S.  Bainbridge.     Boston :  D.  Lothrop 
&Co.     Price  $1.50. 

The  author,  who  had  perseverance  and  energy  enough  to  travel  round  the 
v'orld,  happily  possesses  the  facile  pen  that  enables  her  to  paint  a  vivid  picture  of 
er  adventures  by  the  way.  The  letters  are  so  sprightly  and  vivacious,  the  scenes 
r,re  so  graphically  portrayed,  the  character-portraits  are  so  vigorously  outlined, 
iud  the  information  is  so  tangible  that  tli^  reader  seems  for  a  time  to  be  trans- 
ported to  foreign  shores,  to  become  a  member  of  the  pleasant  travelling  party, 
rmd  to  share  in  the  perplexities  and  pleasures,  the  good  fortune  and  evil  fortune 
that  blend  in  the  story,  and  develop  stores  of  information  seldom  accessible  from 
30  reliable  a  source.  ^  Providence  Journal. 


NEW  PUBLICATIONS. 


Originality.  By  Elias  Nason.  Boston:  D.  Lotbrop  <fe 
Co.  Price  $.50.  Mr.  Nasoii  has  here  made  a  reply  to 
Wendeil  Pliillips'  "Lost  Arts,"  which  is  Avell  worth  read- 
ing for  its  point  and  snggestiveness.  He  endeavors  to  shov 
the  meaniug  of  the  word,  and  what  important  results  have 
come  from  the  originating  powers  of  a  few  briglit  men  since 
the  beginning  of  civilization.  He  talves  np,  one  by  one,  the 
pohits  made  by  Mr.  Phillips  in  his  famous  lecture,  and  shows 
on  what  slight  grounds  they  rest,  and  of  how  little  weight 
they  really  are  when  examined  and  analyzed.  Mr.  Nason 
does  not  believe  that  any  of  the  useful  arts  have  been  lost. 
The  ancients  had  few  to  lose.  They  made  glass,  but  they 
did  not  know  how  to  use  it.  They  could  embalm  dead 
bodies;  but  of  what  use  were  embalmed  dead  bodies  ?  They 
had  some  knowledge  of  mathematics,  but  a  school-boy's 
arithmetic  to-day  contains  more  mathen.iatical  knowledge 
tlian  has  come  out  of  all  the  exhumed  cities  of  the  Orient. 
There  were  more  marvels  of  art  displayed  at  the  Centennial 
exhibition  than  in  the  ancient  world  for  twenty  centuries. 
Mr.  Nason  insists  that  the  gssthetical  productions  of  the 
ancients  have  been  vastly  over-estiunited.  The  periods  of 
Demosthenes,"  lie  says,  "  yield'  in  Titanic  force  to  the 
double-compact  sentences  of  Daniel  AVebster.  Mr.  Phillips 
himself  has  sometimes  spoken  more  eloquently  than  Cicero. 
Homer  never  rises  to  the  sublimity  of  John  Milton."  The 
world  grows  wiser  and  l)etter.  Age  by  age,  it  has  been  de- 
veloping its  resources  and  adding  pearl  to  pearl  to  the  diadem 
of  its  wisdom;  sometimes  slower,  sometimes  quicker,  but 
always  upward  and  onward.  Mr.  Nason  writes  in  a  fresh 
and  sparkling  style,  and  the  thousands  who  have  listened 
with  rapt  attention  to  Mr.  Phillips'  eloquent  presentation  of 
his  side  of  the  question  will  find  equal  pleasure  and  greater 
profit  in  reading  this  charming  essay,  which  is  equally  elo- 
quent and  unquestionably  sounder  in  its  conclusions. 

The  Life  and  Weitings  of  Chakles  Dickens.     By 

.;|Phebe    A.   Hanaford,      Boston:     D.  Lothrop  &  Co.      Price 

-t$1.50.      A   life   of    Dickens,   written    by  a  popular  author 

j^nd  upon  a  new  i)]an,  will  be  siire  to  meet  with  favor  at  Ihe 

hands  of  the  public.     IMrs.  Hanaford  has  not  attempted  to 

wriie  a  criricai   ana   original   analysis  of   the  great  author 

from  her  own  point  of  view,  but,  while  sketching  the  main 

incidents  of  his  life,  has  quoted  liberally  from  his  works  to 

illustrate    his   genius,    and    from    the    correspondence    and 

wri'.ingsof  his  personal  friends  to  show  the  estimation  in 

which  he  was  held  by  them  as  a  man,  a  philantiu'opist  and 

a  Christian.     The  volume  commends  itself  to  every  lover  of 

Dickeus.  and  deservea  to  be  widely  known  and  read. 


Books  of  the  Celebrated  Prize 

Series. 

The  preparation  of  this  famous  series  was  a  happy  inspiration.  No  books 
for  the  young  worthy  of  circulation  have  ever  met  so  warm  a  welcome  or 
had  a  wider  sale.  The  fact  tliat  each  of  them  has  passed  the  criticism  of 
a  committee  of  clergymen  of  different  denominations,  men  of  high  scholar- 
ship, excellent  literary  taste,  wide  observation,  and  rare  good  judgment, 
is  a  commendation  in  itself  sufficient  to  secure  for  these  books  the  widest 
welcome.  The  fact  that  they  are  found,  in  every  instance,  to  be  fully 
worthy  of  such  high  commendation,  accounts  for  their  continued  and  in- 
creasing popularity. 

The   $1000  prize   Books.     A  fresh   edition   in   nev/  style   of 
binding. 
i6  vols.     i2mo ^24.  so 

The  New  $500  Prize  Series.     A  fresh  edition  in  new  style  of 
binding. 
13  vols.     i2mo..   $16.75 

The  Original  $500  Prize  Series.    A  fresh  edition  in  new 

style  of  binding. 

8  vols.     i2mo $i2.oa 

The  Original  $500  Prize  Stories. 

Andy  Luttrell.     $1.50.  Sabrina  Hackett.     $1.50. 

Shining  Hours.     $1.50.  Aunt  Matty.     $1.50. 

Master  and  Pupil.     $1.50,  Light  from  the  Cross.     $1.50. 

May  Bell.     $1.50.  Contradictions.     ^1.50. 

New  $500  Prize  Series. 

Short-Comings  and  Long-Goings.  The  Flower  by  the  Prison.    ^1.25, 

$1.25.  Trifles.     $1.25. 

Lute  Falconer.     $1.50.  The  Judge's  Sons.     $1.50, 

Hester's  Happy  Summer.     $1.25.  Daisy  Seymour.     $1.25. 

One  Year  of  My  Life.     $1.25.  Olive  Loring's  Mission.     ;^i.2S. 

Building-Stones.     $1.25.  The  Torch-Hearers.     $1.25, 

Susy's  Spectacles.     $1.25.  The  Trapper's  Niece.     ^1.25. 

The  $1000  Prize  Series. 

Striking  for  the  Right.     $1.75.  Coming  to  the  Light.     $1.50. 

Walter' Macdonald."    $1.50.  Ralph's  Possession.     ^1.50. 

The  Wadsworth  Boys.     $1.50.  Sunset  Mcuntain.     $1.50. 

Silent  Tom.     $1.75.  The  Old  Stone  House.     ^1.50, 

Tlie  Blount  Family.     $1  50.  Golden  Lines.     ^-150. 

The  Marble  Preacher.     $1.50.  Luck  of  Alden  Farm.     ,^1.50. 

Evening  Rest.     $1.50.  Glimpses  Through.     #1.50 

Margaret  Worthington.     $1.50.  Grace  Avery's  Influence.     ^150. 

D.  LOTHROP  &  CO.,  Publishers,  Boston. 


Classijiec^  List.  —  Pansy, 


THE  PANSY  BOOKS. 

There  are  substantial  reasons  for  the  great  popularity  of  tha 
*  Pansy  Books,"  and  foremost  among  these  is  their  truth  to  nature 
and  to  life.  The  genuineness  of  the  types  of  character  which 
they  portray  is  indeed  remarkable. 

"  Her  stories  move  alternately  to  laughter  and  tears."    .    .    • 
"Brimful  of  the  sweetness  of   evangelical  religion."      .     ,     * 
"  Girl  life  and  character  portrayed  with  rare  power.'*    ,     ,     . 
"  Too  much  cannot  be  said  of  the  insight  given  into  the  true  way 
of  studying  and  using  the  word  of  God."     .     .     .     These  are  a 
few  quotations  from  words    of  praise  everywhere  spoken.     The 
*'  Pansy  Books  "  may  be  purchased  by  any  Sunday-school  without 
hesitation  as  to  their  character  or  acceptability. 

Each  volu7ne  i2mo,  $i.^0. 


Chautauqua  Girls  at  Home. 

Christie's  Christmas. 

Divers  Women, 

Echoing  and  Re-echoing, 

Endless  Chain  (An). 

Ester  Ried. 

Ester  Ried  Yet  Speaking. 

Four  Girls  at  Chautauqua. 

From  different  Standpoints. 

Hall  in  the  Grove  (The). 

Household  Puzzles. 

Interrupted. 

Julia  Ried. 

King's  Daughter  .(The). 


Links  in  Rebecca's  Life. 

Mrs.  Solomon  Smith  Looking  On, 

Modern  Prophets. 

Man  of  the  House  (The). 

New  Graft  on  the  Family  Tree  (A)l 

One  Commonplace  Day. 

Pocket  Measure  (The). 

Ruth  Erskine's  Crosses. 

Randolphs  (The). 

Sidney  Martin's  Christmas, - 

Those  Boys. 

Three  People. 

Tip  Lewi?  and  his  Lamp, 

Wise  and  Otherwise. 


c 


